Their eyes met. Honey saw Lindsey’s knowing smile and guessed what she was thinking. Her daughter was no fool. Carl Tompkins had been weighed up. It was a matter of time before he got put firmly in his place.
Doherty had already informed them all that the two of them were planning to get married. It was impossible to tell what he felt about that though he had bought the champagne and led the toast.
‘Will you have a white wedding,’ Honey asked once the champagne was finished and replaced with a bottle of chardonnay. She directed her question at Rachel, but it was Carl who answered.
‘A very good question, Mrs Driver.’ Turning his head he gazed lovingly into Rachel’s eyes and patted her hand. ‘I am a firm believer that spending a lot on the wedding day is the precursor for spending the rest of our lives together. Faithful for ever. That’s what we shall be.’ He raised Rachel’s hand to his lips and kissed it.
Lindsey used the menu to hide her face. Nevertheless, Honey saw her make a gagging action with her two fingers. The eyes of mother and daughter met in silent understanding. They were of the same mind; neither of them liked Carl Tompkins.
Conversation about weddings was mixed with Carl talking about how much money he made in the city. Apparently he was mostly involved in foreign exchange.
‘There’s a mint to be made if you’ve got the guts to do it,’ he said, his vowels over pronounced and arrogance in his eyes. ‘I receive a very generous bonus each year. In the past I bought sports cars and speedboats, the very latest in every electronic device on the market. But all that is in the past. The money I make will remain in my bank account – or of course invested in a suitable family home. As for the rest of my career, I aim to take full advantage of my opportunities and retire early. At forty-five I think, though I will still dabble no doubt. Especially if we have children – which I am sure we will, and I would insist on a university education.’
It was noticeable that he talked more than anyone else at the table. Honey badly wanted to stick a pin in the little prick’s balloon, but out of respect for Doherty’s feelings, she smiled sweetly and kept to small talk. Drury, Lindsey’s boyfriend was sitting quietly and he looked interesting. She asked him about his job.
‘I didn’t think there were many civil servants left in Bath. You must be one of the few remaining.’
‘I work in Cheltenham.’ He smiled. ‘Not directly for any of the armed forces. You could say that I’m a backroom boy.’
Honey hid her surprise in a glass of wine. If her guess was right, he had to be referring to GCHQ, the place where they monitored the communications of spies, terrorists and unfriendly regimes?
‘You seem a man of few words,’ Honey said to him.
Drury smiled, glanced at Carl, who was still dominating the conversation. He cupped his ear, at the same time, his lips moving silently. She knew what he’d said.
‘I listen.’
He smiled a quiet, knowing smile. She didn’t need a verbal answer. Cupping his ear, those two small words and that quiet smile said it all. Drury was a kind of James Bond; not an out and out action man, but one who kept his ear to what was going on in the world; a spook who listened.
She went on to ask where he’d met her daughter. Was it at the gym?
He gave her a thoughtful smile, the kind that made her think he kept secrets or knew things everyone else wished they knew too. However, his response surprised her.
‘When I’m not working I’m a ghost hunter. I was wandering around a medieval house that was said to be haunted. I didn’t find any spectral beings, but I did find Lindsey. I don’t think I need to tell you that she has a fondness for everything medieval and old things in general.’ His smile widened. ‘Perhaps I’m one of those old things.’
Despite the fact that he was a few years older than her daughter, Honey decided she liked him. Unlike the cocksure Carl Tompkins, he possessed presence without self importance, perhaps a prerequisite for the job he did.
Absorbed in her conversation with Drury, she didn’t notice that Lindsey was trying to attract her attention. After receiving a kick on her foot, she finally looked her way.
Lindsey’s eyes slid sidelong. At the same time she gave a sideways jerk of her head. Honey looked in the direction to where a vision in pale grey and pink was being seated by a waiter at a table for two. The man with her was dressed in a pale grey lounge suit with a pale grey shirt and pink tie. The corner of a pink handkerchief peaked from his breast pocket. Colour coordinated, her mother and her new husband had arrived!
Since finding, falling in love and marrying Stewart White on a Saga cruise, her mother had not visited the Green River Hotel quite as much as she used to.
Honey now believed that there was such a thing as love at first sight and was glad of it. She no longer got dragged into her mother’s circle of friends, getting lumbered with incontinent dogs, aged Lotharios’ and requests to drive her mother to the funerals of old friends. Her own friends were getting older and, hey, nobody lives forever.
Honey ducked back behind a pillar adjacent to her chair so she wouldn’t be seen. Her mother and her new stepfather were talking nose to nose, hands clasped across the table. Sweet! Her mother’s handbag – a large sack like affair with silver studs and a large red tassel hanging from the fastening, squatted on the floor between them at the side of the table.
It was hard to decide whether to go over and say hello or let them have their privacy. The decision was delayed when Drury asked her a question.
‘I understand you inherited a ghost when you took over the hotel and it now seems as though you have a second ghost. Tell me about it.’
Honey gave a light laugh. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me it was just my imagination?’
‘No I will not because it’s not always true. Sometimes it is down to an overactive imagination, but sometimes it is not. Tell me about it.’
His eyes twinkled. They were brown and there were wrinkles at the corners. His smile was sincere.
She told him about Mary Jane and the ghost that haunted her bedroom and was supposedly a long dead relative. Then she told him about the one she had seen. Half way through her discussion, Carl Tompkins made his excuses to go to the bathroom. To get there he had to pass close by where her mother and stepfather were sitting.
Honey’s eyes strayed in that direction as she spoke about her experiences with the paranormal – though only sounding half convinced. She didn’t want her daughter’s new boyfriend to think she was gaga.
‘I’m not gaga,’ she said to him, suddenly unable to hold back her thoughts. ‘I just listen to everybody and make my own judgements.’
‘I do pretty much the same,’ he replied.
Honey’s attention drifted across to where her mother and stepfather were engrossed in each other. Not once did either of them look in Honey’s direction. They were in their own world.
Carl reappeared from the door at the corner of the restaurant which led out into a corridor leading to the toilets. He strode out like a gladiator about to do battle – which seemed odd, seeing as they were there to celebrate an engagement and possible wedding.
The gap between the table for two and a large plant-holder wasn’t great. Suddenly Carl tripped over her mother’s bag and almost went sprawling.
Honey stopped talking though aware that Drury had asked her a question.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You were telling me about this Mary Jane. I understand she’s a professor of the paranormal.’
‘That’s right. From California. Well, she would be wouldn’t she? It’s known for being home to a lot of far out people.’
‘She might not be so far out. She might be absolutely right about everything.’
His tone of voice was so calm, so matter of fact.
Honey looked at him in disbelief. ‘But you work at GCHQ. You listen to...’
She couldn’t quite think of the right description.
‘Spy traffic and terrorists who think their way is r
ight and to hell with everybody else.’
‘That’s about it.’
He grinned. ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t have some imagination. I think a lot. Probably too much.’
Honey suddenly became aware that in the absence of Carl, everybody at the table had fallen silent. All eyes were on them, all ears focused on their conversation.
There was another conversation – sounding more like an argument – going on over at her mother and stepfather’s table. Carl sounded as though he were tearing them off a strip.
‘Mary Jane is totally off the wall, getting on in years and quite wonderful,’ said Lindsey. ‘I’ve told Drury all about her.’
Doherty pulled a face. ‘I’m guessing you haven’t mentioned her driving.’
‘I have not.’
‘Neither have I,’ added Honey. ‘I try not to think about Mary Jane’s driving – especially when I’m in the passenger seat. I keep my eyes closed.’
‘Something of a speed merchant?’ Drury smiled.
‘Let’s say she doesn’t always concentrate on what she’s doing.’
Drury nodded thoughtfully. ‘We could take the view that it’s difficult focusing on this world if you’ve got more than a passing interest with the next.’
‘You could say that,’ said Doherty. ‘But there are occasions when she’s only narrowly missed going there – and her passengers with her!’
There was much merriment; even Rachel seemed to relax.’
The raised voices at the other table continued. Honey ignored it. Her mother was quite capable of looking after herself.
‘OK. This is it,’ said Doherty. ‘Mary Jane believes that the man who lives in her wardrobe is a long distant relative who died a few hundred years ago.’
‘The one I saw standing up at the landing window, looking as though she was about to throw herself out, is a new one. Nobody has ever seen her before – except for the firm of solicitors across the road. Apparently they got a bit fed up of her and engaged an exorcist to get rid of her. In the event she merely moved house. So now it seems we’ve got her.’
Drury frowned as he contemplated the matter. He looked to be thinking very deeply.
Finally, he pronounced, ‘It sounds as though something’s happened to trigger her appearance. An exorcism would do it. One minute at peace, the next springing into life – well not exactly life – but essence so to speak and springing across the road. Don’t worry. She’ll move out again, straight back into where she came from.’
‘That’s good,’ said Honey, immediately cheered by his analysis. ‘Tell me, Drury, what made you interested in ghosts?’
Drury grinned. He had an attractive face and an attractive grin.
‘I thought I saw things when I was a kid. And I heard things other people didn’t seem to hear.’ His grin widened. ‘Perhaps that’s why I enjoy my job.’
‘How intriguing. You listen to things?’ said Doherty.
‘And I interpret things. That’s my job. But the past still fascinates me and so does the concept of another world that’s way beyond the one we see and accept, so it’s...’
Their pleasant ongoing conversation was rudely interrupted.
‘Can you believe it! The sheer ignorance of old people!’
Carl was back, his face red with anger and a haughty jut to his rather pointed chin.
Rachel looked up at him in alarm. ‘What is it, darling? Come and sit down.’
Carl was livid. ‘I’ve just tripped over a silly old woman’s handbag. Honestly, some people shouldn’t be let out. Still. Never mind. Perhaps the old biddy will opt for euthanasia and give us all a break! Now where was I?’
‘Crowing,’ said Honey. ‘Telling us how much you earn in the city and how you’ve got a lot more money than the rest of us. And now it appears you’re stupid enough to make an enemy where you really shouldn’t go.’
Doherty sunk down into his arms, his shoulders quaking with laughter.
For the first time since he’d arrived, Carl Tompkins was looking totally ill at ease.
‘Pardon?’
‘You were also fondling my knee,’ said Lindsey. ‘You were fondling my knee and fancying your chances. If Rachel marries you, she’s a bloody fool. You’ll always be fondling somebody’s knee. That’s the sort you are.’
Rachel turned quite pale. Her mouth hung open. Doherty was still immersed in laughter. Drury was the picture of casual amusement. True to his nature, he was taking stock of everything and making his own mind up.
Carl did his best to laugh it off.
‘In your dreams, sweetheart! Why would I want to fondle your scrawny knee when I’ve got my lovely fiancé sitting next to me?’
He grabbed Rachel’s hand. For the first time that night Rachel looked a bit daunted, but Carl was not a man to be defeated that easily. His eyes locked with hers.
Honey detected a small change in the girl. Was it her imagination or did she look less besotted and less sure of her boyfriend than she had been earlier? She certainly hoped so.
For a moment it looked as though something had snapped, but Carl Tompkins had exerted his control over her long enough to break any sign of resistance.
‘Darling,’ he said, gazing fondly into her eyes. ‘The chairs are a bit close. It was accidental. How could it be anything else?’
Rachel looked at her father who had finally managed to raise his head. He just about managed to control the quirky smile that kept breaking out on his face. She looked round at everyone seated at the table, aware Lindsey was glaring at her intended, that her father had just recovered from laughing, that Honey Driver was looking downright angry. Lindsey’s boyfriend was the only one whose mood was impossible to read. All the while Carl continued to whisper into her ear.
The incident might have passed, Rachel might have forgiven him and Doherty might have taken the view that his daughter was committed to marrying a waster who at some time in the future would leave her high and dry.
Honey understood what he was thinking. His daughter was no longer a child. He might give her the benefit of his advice, but ultimately the decision was hers and hers alone.
All this might have come to pass, however, Carl Tompkins had not allowed for Gloria Stewart, formerly Cross, striding across the restaurant and descending upon him like a whirlwind.
‘You nasty little man!’
‘Madam, I am...’ He tried to rise from his chair, but didn’t get the chance. Honey’s mother served him a hefty clout around the head with her handbag.
Honey winced. Her mother carried a lot of heavy weight gear in that handbag – mobile phone, camera, door keys and enough makeup to open a market stall.
‘Don’t you tell me that I’m too old to be let out, you stinker! You can’t fool me with your smart suit and your Eton tie. I’ve lived long enough to know a worm when I see one, and you’re a worm of the worst kind!’
She would have socked him once again but Doherty grabbed her hand.
‘Steve Doherty, let go of me.’
‘Gloria. This won’t be the first time I’ve mentioned the chances of you being charged with GBH.’
‘What’s this creep to you? And what are my daughter and granddaughter doing seated at the same table as this moron?’
‘We’re having a quiet family dinner.’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ she snapped, her anger unabated. ‘I mean what do you mean protecting this pond life from a frail old woman like me?’
Honey hid her face in her hands. Her mother did not tolerate other people defining her as old. When she referred to herself as old it meant she was REALLY angry.
Doherty shook his head at her. ‘Don’t try and play the age card with me, Gloria.’
‘Gloria, darling...’
Husband Stewart gently put his hands on her shoulders.
‘I won’t be gentled,’ she said to him.
‘The thought didn’t enter my mind. I was only going to ask you if you wanted me to punch his lights out.’
Honey sighed. Not only did she have a dotty mother but it seemed the man she’d chosen to marry thought along similar lines to what she did. Could be the next few years would be as entertaining – or exasperating – as the past few years.
Her mother looked enquiringly at her granddaughter.
‘Lindsey. Are you with him?’
‘No.’ Lindsey patted Drury’s shoulder. ‘I’m with him.’
Drury raised his hands palms outwards in a defensive action.
‘Please don’t handbag me. I’m more fragile than I look.’
Gloria’s angry expression flopped into a smile.
Carl was looking totally destroyed.
‘It appears I’ve made a mistake,’ he said with as much pride as he could muster.
‘You have that,’ said Doherty. ‘You’ve made an enemy of Honey’s mother.’
‘Let go my wrist.’
Doherty let go of Gloria’s wrist.
‘He’s with me,’ said Rachel. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’
Honey’s mother drew in her chin and eyed Doherty.
‘What are you going to do about it?’
Doherty sighed. ‘About what? Him insulting you or you swinging your handbag around his head?’
‘You’re a policeman. You’ve got the technology. Check up on him.’
Doherty leaned close and whispered in her ear.
‘That, dear Gloria, is a very good idea.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Drury Constantine, a long name for a very nice chap, asked Honey if he could call in during at the Green River Hotel when he had to time.
‘I’d like to talk to this professor of the paranormal,’ he said to her.
‘Be my guest. She is.’
And so it was that he arrived and was properly introduced to Mary Jane. Unlike some people he did not bat an eyelid at her outrageously colourful outfit. Today she resembled a mobile rainbow; multi coloured pants, multi coloured tunic top, ditto the swathe of silk wrapped around her head in turban style.
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