An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF Page 2

  “And I’m sure you were rather pleased to tell him you were leaving,” Shelly suggested.

  Fenella nodded. “I was, really. He seemed to think that I’d be sitting around waiting for him to get back. It was nice to be able to tell him that I was going to London. That just made him change his plans, though. He actually ended up on the same flight from the island to London as me.”

  “How romantic, or stalker-like, depending on your point of view,” Shelly said.

  Fenella laughed. “I think I’d rather consider it romantic, if it a bit, um, well, high-handed, or something like that. Anyway, we sat together on the plane, and he promised me that he’d found all sorts of work that needed doing in London but that he’d love to buy me dinner once or twice while we were both there.”

  “So he left you to get on with your research?”

  “For the most part,” Fenella said, feeling as if she was blushing yet again. “He’s part of the reason I stayed the extra week,” she admitted. “He wanted to take me to the West End one night for a show.”

  “How exciting. What did you see?”

  Fenella named the hugely popular show that had just recently transferred from Broadway to the West End. “We sat in a box and everything,” Fenella said. “I felt like royalty or something. It was amazing.”

  “Now I’m quite jealous,” Shelly told her. “I’d love to see that show, but it sold out almost immediately. They’re talking about extending the run, but they haven’t announced any additional dates yet. Tell me all about it; no, wait, don’t. I don’t want to know, just in case I do get to go see it one day.”

  “It was excellent,” Fenella told her. “I won’t tell you any more than that.”

  “Donald really did spoil you, then.”

  “He did indeed. We went out for dinner twice, both times to incredibly fancy restaurants. I didn’t have the first clue what I was eating, as the descriptions were lovely but incomprehensible, but everything was delicious.”

  “Of course Donald didn’t stay in the same hotel as you,” Shelly said.

  “No, of course not. I stayed in a lovely little place near the library where I was doing most of my research. Donald stayed in a hugely fancy and, I’m sure, very expensive hotel near the center of the city. He invited me back to admire his view, but I declined.”

  Shelly laughed. “I’m sure that isn’t all he was hoping you’d admire,” she said with a wink.

  “I wouldn’t be ready to jump into bed with him, even if Peter and Daniel weren’t in the picture,” Fenella said. “But as I’m not sure how I feel about any of the three of them, I’m sleeping alone for now.”

  “Except for Katie,” Shelly said.

  “Yes, of course, except for Katie,” Fenella chuckled. “And when she isn’t angry at me, she does sleep right in the exact middle of my bed. I’m not sure I’ll be able to ever have a man stay over at my apartment.”

  “Smokey sleeps on the spare pillow in my bed,” Shelly told her. “But she should be fine there for a very long time as I can’t even begin to imagine ever wanting to sleep with another man.”

  “Never say never,” Fenella told her.

  “I’m not even sure I want Gordon living in Douglas,” Shelly told her. “That seems too close for my comfort level right now.”

  “Douglas is a big place. Maybe he’ll buy a house somewhere on the outskirts and you’ll never see him,” Fenella suggested.

  “He’s looking at flats on the promenade,” Shelly replied. “There are a few for sale in the building next to ours, actually.”

  “Which building next to ours?”

  “The one that needs work,” Shelly said.

  Fenella knew exactly what Shelly meant. Their building, Promenade View Apartments, still looked newly remodeled, even though it had been some years since the old hotel had been transformed into expensive luxury apartments. Neither of the buildings on either side of theirs could compete with the glass and stone façade at Promenade View, but only one of them looked as if the owners had given up trying. Faded and flaking paint, badly worn stairs, and cracked walkways made the building unappealing. Fenella had never been inside, and she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to buy an apartment there.

  “Why would he want to live there?” she asked Shelly.

  “It’s affordable,” Shelly told her. “Housing prices have been all over the place for the last ten years or so, but the island is still an expensive place to live. Flats in that building are around ten percent cheaper than flats in the building on the other side of ours.”

  “If the apartments are as poorly maintained as the exterior, that’s hardly surprising.”

  “Gordon is going to look at two or three different flats that are available there later this week. He said that according to the estate agent, most of the flats themselves are lovely.”

  “Which is probably what a real estate agent says when he or she means horrible,” Fenella suggested.

  Shelly laughed. “Probably,” she agreed. “But I’ve promised Gordon that I’ll look at the flats with him. He wants a second opinion, apparently.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. Buying a new apartment, er, flat, is a big decision, especially if he’s moving from elsewhere on the island to Douglas.”

  The pair had reached their own apartment complex again. “I suppose we’ve walked enough for today,” Shelly said.

  “We’ve walked the entire promenade, both ways,” Fenella said. “It feels like we’ve done more than enough.”

  They took a few steps toward their building before Shelly stopped. She nodded toward a man who was sitting on a nearby bench. “I just need to go and have a quick word,” she told Fenella.

  Fenella waited while Shelly spoke to the man. From where she was standing, she could really only see the top of his bald head as he and Shelly chatted for a short while.

  “I should have introduced you,” Shelly said when she rejoined Fenella. “But he wasn’t really in a talkative mood,” she added, glancing back at the man who was once more staring out at the water.

  “Who is he?” Fenella asked.

  “Dr. Oscar Yates,” Shelly replied. “He used to be my GP, that’s general practitioner, a few years ago when he had multiple surgeries, including one in Douglas. It’s a sad story, really.”

  “Go on, then, tell me the story,” Fenella demanded.

  Shelly glanced at the man again and then sighed. “He’s only in his fifties, but his wife is older. A year or so ago she started having problems with her memory. He only has a single surgery now, in Lonan, and he’s only there one or two days a week. He spends most of his time looking after Bernice.”

  “So where is she now?”

  “Having some tests run at Noble’s,” Shelly replied, naming the island’s large hospital. “He doesn’t have to collect her for a few hours, so he came down to take a walk and get some sea air.”

  Fenella glanced at the man again, just as he stood up and began to stride purposefully down the promenade. Shelly smiled. “I hope he’s feeling better,” she said. “Would you like a ride to the grocery shop?” she asked as she and Fenella crossed the road.

  “I’d love one, if you’re going. I’m doing better with my driving, but now I’ve had two weeks off. I must call Mel and get back to it, actually.”

  Fenella loved the little red convertible that she’d inherited, but she was far less fond of the manual transmission it came with. She’d been taking driving lessons for some weeks before she’d gone away, but she wasn’t feeling anywhere near ready to take her driving test yet.

  “I do have to go, actually,” Shelly said. “I need a…” she trailed off, her attention caught by something further down the promenade.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Dogs are meant to be on leads,” Shelly said, gesturing toward a large and furry animal that was racing around in circles.

  “He looks vaguely familiar.”

  “I think it’s Winston,” Shelly exclaimed. “But
he shouldn’t be out on his own.”

  The pair walked toward the dog, who seemed to have tired of chasing himself and had begun sniffing at the grass instead.

  “Winston?” Shelly called as they approached. “Is that you?”

  The dog stopped investigating a trash can and “woofed” softly before bouncing over to Shelly.

  “It is you,” Shelly said. “But what are you doing out here without Harvey?”

  Winston looked at her for a moment and then barked again. He ran a few paces away and then ran back to Shelly, bouncing excitedly in front of her. Shelly scratched him behind the ears, which made him pant happily.

  Fenella reached over and patted Winston, who obligingly moved closer to her so that she could pet him properly. “I didn’t know your name is Winston,” she told the dog. “But I’ve seen you out here nearly every day with your owner.”

  “That’s Harvey,” Shelly said. “He walks Winston at least three times a day. Winston is a big dog and he needs lots of exercise.”

  “You seem to know everyone on the island,” Fenella told Shelly.

  “I talk to everyone I meet,” Shelly replied. “Your aunt encouraged me to start doing that when I lost John. Hearing about other people’s lives helps you to remember that everyone has a story. Some of them are probably even sadder than yours, as well.”

  “But where is Harvey?” Fenella asked.

  Shelly frowned. “That’s a very good question,” she said. “He loves Winston. He’d never let him get out and run away.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “I do, actually. He lives in the building next to ours, the one we’d been talking about.”

  “Maybe we should walk Winston home, then,” Fenella suggested. She scratched the dog behind his ears and found herself feeling as if she’d quite like to play with him for a bit longer. “Maybe we should walk him for a while first, though. Maybe Harvey isn’t well and this is the only exercise poor Winston will get today.”

  “I think we should check on Harvey before we do anything else,” Shelly said. “He might have fallen or something. He’s eighty-three, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that. As I said, I’ve never spoken to him.”

  “He’s had a fascinating life, actually,” Shelly said. “But then, I think most people have had interesting lives. Anyway, Harvey grew up in Liverpool and joined a band in the nineteen-fifties. They had a huge amount of success locally. Everyone thought they were going to be the next Beatles. Unfortunately, they never had much success in the wider world. Anyway, Harvey stayed in the music business, managing other acts for his entire career. When he got ready to retire, he decided to retire to the island, where he’d often spent his holidays when he was younger.”

  “I really should talk to more people,” Fenella muttered, mostly to herself.

  “When he bought his flat, that building was one of the nicest in Douglas,” Shelly continued. “It was called Stanley Court in those days. They renamed it Derby Apartments a few years ago. Anyway, he bought himself a penthouse flat. Once he was settled in, though, he started getting lonely. From what he told me, I gather he never lacked for female company during his days in the music business, but once he was settled here, he found himself on his own. He adopted Winston from a shelter and they’ve been inseparable ever since.”

  “Until today,” Fenella said darkly.

  “Now you’re worrying me,” Shelly said. “We should take Winston home right away.”

  Winston perked up his ears when he heard his name. He looked at Shelly and then barked gently before taking off at a run down the promenade. Before Shelly or Fenella could react, he’d raced down the stairs onto the beach. Shelly shouted, “Winston!” as the huge dog dove into the sea.

  The two women exchanged glances. “What do we do now?” Fenella asked.

  “Maybe I should go and ring Harvey,” Shelly suggested. “I’m sure he’ll be in the telephone directory. You keep an eye on Winston.”

  Fenella nodded despite her uncertainty. Keeping an eye on a large dog who seemed determined to celebrate his unexpected freedom seemed like a big job.

  “I’ll be right back,” Shelly promised.

  Fenella followed Winston’s path down the promenade and down the stairs to the beach. She wasn’t nearly as quick as he’d been, but now that he was splashing happily in the sea, he didn’t seem interested in going anywhere else.

  “Ah, Winston, you’re getting filthy,” Fenella said.

  “Woooofff,” he barked back her.

  “Maybe you should come out of there,” Fenella suggested.

  Winston tilted his head as if thinking about the idea before giving it a shake and bouncing away. Water seemed to be splashing everywhere as he went. Shelly returned before Fenella had worked out how to get Winston out of the water.

  “Harvey didn’t answer,” Shelly said anxiously. “I think we need to go and check on him.”

  “Why don’t you go and I’ll keep an eye on the dog?” Fenella suggested. It seemed unlikely that they would be able to persuade Winston to get out of the water, and if they did, they’d probably get soaked for their efforts.

  “I’d, um, rather not go alone,” Shelly replied.

  Fenella saw the look on her friend’s face and understood. Shelly thought something terrible had happened to Harvey. “Okay,” she said.

  “We need to bring Winston with us,” Shelly said.

  “Good luck,” Fenella told her. “I’ve called him a dozen times, but he ignores me.”

  “I have a secret weapon,” Shelly replied. She reached into a pocket and pulled something out. “Winston, treat,” she called.

  The dog stopped leaping over the waves and turned to look at Shelly. Whatever she was holding seemed to grab his attention. He lumbered through the water and up the beach to her side, stopping to shake himself violently. Shelly and Fenella exchanged glances as they both were covered in the cold-water spray.

  “Here you are,” Shelly said, feeding the treat to Winston. “And now we have to put you on a lead.” She pulled a leash from her handbag and she snapped it into place on the dog’s collar.

  “Where did you get that from?” Fenella asked.

  “My friend Jeff in 234,” Shelly replied. “He has three dogs, so I stopped there on my way back down here. He gave me the dog treats and a lead.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought of either of those things,” Fenella admitted. “It’s a good thing you’re here.”

  “I should have brought a few towels as well,” Shelly said with a wry grin.

  Fenella nodded as they began to walk back up the beach. She felt as if she was squelching and dripping with every step. Winston came along, seemingly reluctantly, stopping occasionally to shake again or sniff at something on the sand.

  As they approached the front of the building where Harvey and Winston lived, Fenella couldn’t help but stare. “It’s worse than I thought,” she whispered to Shelly as they approached the uneven stairs to the building’s front door. Not only was the painted façade peeling, there were broken windows in the front door’s panels and piles of litter on the edges of the steps.

  “It needs a facelift,” Shelly agreed. “It would be nice if someone bought it and did it up, but no one is investing in such things at the moment.”

  The front door opened into a small foyer that also needed help. The carpet was stained and torn and the wallpaper seemed to be trying to slide its way down to cover it. The single elevator stood open, and Fenella eyed it warily.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked.

  “No, but I don’t want to walk up to the sixth floor dragging Winston, either,” Shelly replied.

  Winston happily boarded the elevator, so the two women followed him. It rose noisily but steadily. When the doors opened, there was a five-inch gap between the elevator floor and the floor outside, but at least they’d arrived safely. Fenella followed Shelly and Winston down a short corridor. Shelly knocked on the door at apartment
626. After a moment, she knocked again. As she tried a third time, she put more force behind her blows. Both women were shocked when the door suddenly swung open under her hand.

  2

  “Harvey?” Shelly said loudly. “Are you here?”

  “Maybe we should call Daniel,” Fenella suggested.

  “Or just ring 999?” Shelly said questioningly. Fenella knew that 999 would get them an emergency operator who would send the nearest police constable. If it were up to her, she’d rather have Daniel under the circumstances. Before either woman spoke again, Winston barked twice and then bounded into the apartment, dragging Shelly behind him. Fenella followed, digging into her handbag for her mobile phone as she went.

  “Harvey? It’s Shelly. I’ve brought Winston home for you,” Shelly yelled as she tried to bring Winston back under control.

  The door to the apartment opened right into a small living room, which was empty. Shelly dropped the leash as Winston bounded forward. He immediately headed for a large pillow in one corner of the room. In the corner, he dropped onto the pillow and curled up, content to watch Shelly and Fenella.

  “Have you been here before?” Fenella whispered.

  “A few times,” Shelly replied quietly. “The kitchen is behind the door on the left and the bedroom is behind the door on the right.”

  Fenella nodded. “Should we just take a quick peek, then?” she asked.

  “I suppose so,” Shelly said doubtfully.

  The two women crept across the living room. They were nearly to the kitchen door when Shelly shook her head.

  “We should be making noise,” she said loudly. “We want Harvey to hear us.”

  “That’s true,” Fenella said. “I just wish I knew what we were going to find.”

  Shelly sighed and then knocked loudly on the kitchen door. After a moment, she pushed the door open. The kitchen was empty. A half-eaten bowl of dog food and an empty water bowl with Winston’s name on it were on the floor. Otherwise, the kitchen was clean and tidy.