Page 71 of Murder Most Haunted

They found her sitting up in her bed, just as she was reaching out to take another pill from the small table beside her.

‘Don’t touch it, Gloria!’ shouted Noah, leaping over the bedframe to knock the pill from her hand.

‘What?’ she mumbled, her face grey and clammy. ‘What’s going on?’

‘How many pills have you taken?’ asked Rona, pointing to the remaining white tablets.

‘Mmmf . . .’ Gloria swayed slightly and held her head, her fringe sticking to the skin. ‘I don’t feel . . . what is . . . why are you all here?’

‘Gloria.’ Noah shook her slightly. ‘It’s important. Did you just take another pill before that one?’

Gloria nodded, wincing and putting her hand up to her forehead. ‘My head . . . it hurts so much.’

‘We need to empty her stomach out,’ said Rona.

The room was hot and humid and filled with the acrid smell of fire embers.

‘How the hell are we going to do that?’ asked Noah.

‘Harold, get some salt,’ said Rona, pointing at him. ‘As much as you can, and pour it into a big beaker of water.’

‘Righto,’ said Harold, sprinting from the room.

‘Sit her up, Midge, if you can.’ Rona grabbed the metal bin from beside the chest of drawers and pulled it over to the bed, where Midge was already struggling to prop up a very unwilling Gloria. She groaned and pulled at her stomach as she resisted the movement.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Noah when Harold had finally reappeared, out of breath but thankfully with a large glass full of cloudy water in his hand.

‘This isn’t going to be pleasant, Gloria,’ warned Rona. ‘Hold her nose closed, Midge.’

Midge obediently pinched Gloria’s nose, who immediately thrashed about in protest. For such a slight woman, she was certainly stronger than she looked.

Hoping that she would be forgiven, Midge used the full force of her weight to pin her legs down.

Grabbing Gloria’s chin and pulling her mouth open, Rona began to pour the salty liquid into her throat, holding her mouth closed until she was forced to swallow.

Despite Gloria’s squirming, Rona managed to keep it going until the entire glass was empty.

‘What now?’ asked Noah.

‘Stand back,’ advised Rona, before swiftly shoving the bin underneath Gloria’s head just as she erupted.

Midge had once seen a water fountain in Italy that had multiple jets which criss-crossed in the light. For a brief moment, she was reminded of it as she watched Gloria vomiting.

‘I’m so sorry, Gloria,’ said Rona. ‘But believe me, it’s better than having a tube inserted as a pump.’

Gloria moaned, vomit dribbling down her chin. She shrank back against the cotton pillows, her hair sticking to the side of her face while her fingers clung to the bed sheets. Hovering over her nervously, Noah fumbled in his pockets before drawing out a square of material.

‘Here you go,’ said Noah, passing Gloria a hankie. ‘You should be OK now.’

In that moment, watching Gloria clutching the same canary handkerchief that she believed Noah had dropped in the mine and Rona had then used as a gag, the final object of the weekend settled back into its place, and suddenly Midge knew exactly who the murderer was.