Page 27 of Murder Most Haunted
Harold had insisted on trying to show Noah how to light a fire in an effort to heat the drawing room.
‘Were you never in the Scouts?’ he asked, as Noah attempted to balance the kindling, his slight frame completely swallowed up by the giant marble mantelpiece.
‘It’s a patriarchal, outdated system of reinforced servitude,’ said Noah, frowning at the pile of wood in front of him in a way that reminded Midge of Bridie playing Jenga.
‘And they didn’t want you in the army?’ murmured Dr Mortimer. ‘What a surprise.’
‘Actually, it was a mutual decision. I wanted to do a Computer Science degree instead. And to be honest, as far as the Scouts go, if I was that desperate to be molested as a young boy, I’d have joined the church choir,’ continued Noah.
‘Heavens!’ said Gloria.
‘My Linda joined the church choir,’ said Harold. ‘She goes out practising on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evenings.’ Midge thought four times a week seemed a little excessive, but a full-time hobby when married to Harold was probably a necessity.
‘Actually, the church can be a great source of comfort, sometimes,’ said Gloria so quietly that Midge wasn’t sure if she was talking to anyone but herself.
‘Hey!’ Noah, who had been trying to pour some antibacterial gel on to his hands, protested as Harold whipped the bottle away from him and squirted the fireplace.
Suddenly, the smouldering wood went up in a whoosh of flame, causing Noah to scramble backwards.
‘See, that’s something your ghosts can’t teach you: common bloody sense.’
‘You’re off your head,’ said Noah, plonking himself down next to Midge on the sofa, which wasn’t quite big enough for two, meaning she had to move her cane again.
‘We won’t need to light fires soon anyway, with all this global warming,’ said Rona, who had suddenly popped up from behind the chaise longue, where she had been practising her yoga salutations.
‘I’m not sure that’s quite how it works,’ muttered Noah. ‘Anyway, when was the last time you lit a fire?’
‘Never,’ shrugged Rona. ‘I’ve always had a “Harold” to do it for me.’
Midge’s mind boggled at a universe with more than one Harold.
‘What will you do if you can’t get home?’ Rona asked him from behind the couch. ‘Won’t your wife be getting worried?’
He shrugged. ‘No, she’s fine. Away herself this weekend, as I believe I’ve said. With the choir, in fact.’
That is not what you said yesterday, thought Midge. You said she was at her sister’s.
‘I’ve been having a think,’ said Rona, dropping forward on to all fours and curving her back towards the floor while Noah tried very hard not to stare at her bottom. ‘About what we can do.’
‘Does it involve music?’ asked Midge, really, really hoping it didn’t. ‘Only, the Haunting Holiday Excursions guidebook was quite explicit about no loud music.’ It had been one of its saving graces when Midge had researched the trip.
‘No music.’ Rona’s face was reddening from the exertion. ‘But I’ve come up with a way that we can find out what really happened to Rendell. A tarot reading!’
Noah shook his head. ‘The guidebook was also quite clear that there should be no unsupervised paranormal activities without the consent of the tour guide.’
‘Rules are made to be broken, Noah,’ smiled Rona. ‘Just as I told the chief of police at Shakira’s fortieth birthday party. After all, what’s a sixty-foot anaconda between friends?’
‘It’s reckless,’ said the doctor.
‘It was actually pretty harmless,’ said Rona. ‘Someone had defanged it.’
‘Anacondas are non-venomous,’ Midge put in. ‘They constrict their—’
‘I meant tarot reading!’ Dr Mortimer snapped.
‘I thought you didn’t believe in all of that anyway?’ asked Harold.
‘I should like to take part,’ said Gloria.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Gloria,’ said her husband.
‘I’m not.’ Gloria looked around the room, as Rona paused her exercise. ‘What’s the alternative? Sitting around this draughty house, imagining the worst and counting KitKats?’