Page 9 of Murder Most Haunted

‘Hey, give that back . . . that’s mine, I’m taking it to my room.’ Noah’s voice had got louder, and there was the sound of a tussle as something heavy was dragged across the snow.

‘Is everything OK, boys?’ Rona was kneeling on the cushion to lean out of the window.

There was the sound of more scuffling accompanied by heavy breathing before, finally, Rendell’s exasperated voice could be heard. ‘Fine, have it your way. But this is a big mistake.’

‘Fucking men,’ said Rona, after a few seconds of silence from below. She lit a cigarette and stuck her head back out of the window, blowing the smoke out into the cold evening air. Midge worried about the sash curtains.

‘Full of ego and testosterone, strutting around like bloody cockerels.’

It was hard to imagine Noah as a chicken or even with much testosterone, so Midge gave up and wondered instead if Rona had a deep dislike of the opposite sex or whether she just liked swearing a lot.

The smoke was making Midge cough and Rona waved her hand apologetically. ‘Sorry. Shit habit, I know. That’s the problem with rehab, the best way to get over one addiction is to start a new one – and in rehab it’s usually religion, which is definitely not my thing.’

‘Oh,’ said Midge.

‘So, I chose cigarettes – and shoes, of course.’ Rona flicked the cigarette out of the window and turned to Midge, wriggling back into a pair of impressive pink diamanté heels which she lifted up. ‘Say hello to Brenda and Babs.’

Midge decided that Rona couldn’t possibly really want her to address a pair of shoes, sparkly as they were, so she ignored the last comment and said, ‘Well, at least the shoes won’t kill you.’

‘Says someone who has clearly never been in a Jimmy Choo Boxing Day sale,’ said Rona. She fiddled with the drapery. ‘Do you know much about addictions, Maggie?’

‘Midge,’ said Midge awkwardly. ‘People call me Midge.’

‘Who is Bridie?’ asked Rona, suddenly.

‘Pardon?’ asked Midge.

‘You called me Bridie when you woke up. Who is she?’

‘My com—’ Midge had been about to say ‘companion’ but stopped herself. ‘My wife.’ She waved a hand back towards the bed as if Bridie were sitting on it. ‘I was dreaming about her.’

‘Sounds like you were having an argument,’ observed Rona.

Midge nodded. ‘Yes. But we never argue really.’

‘That’s unhealthy,’ said Rona. ‘Very.’

They were silent for a second. Midge pretended to ignore the dropped ash on the cushion cover, shivering slightly in the draught from the window.

‘Aren’t you getting dressed for dinner?’ asked Rona, catching Midge off guard.

‘I am dressed perfectly adequately for eating,’ Midge replied. But then a thought occurred to her. ‘Do you think this is an occasion?’ she asked.

Rona wrinkled her nose and gave a small laugh. ‘Well, it’s not up there with the Grammys but . . . let’s see, what options do we have?’ She had moved over to Midge’s chest of drawers.

‘Oh,’ she said politely after a couple of minutes examining Midge’s wardrobe for the weekend. ‘Well, this is colourful.’ She pulled out the rainbow smock.

‘It goes with everything,’ said Midge, thinking Rona would be the kind of person to appreciate the wisdom of this.

‘Does it, though?’ asked Rona, her head to one side. ‘No. You’re right, wear it. But please don’t tell me these are the only shoes that you have?’ She pointed down at Midge’s boots.

Midge obliged and kept her mouth shut.

Rona closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and announcing dramatically, ‘You can borrow a pair of mine, if you want. I’m guessing you’re a size five? I’ve got a bit of an eye for this sort of thing.’

‘Five and a half,’ said Midge. ‘And no, thank you,’ she added, firmly.

‘My shoes are specially made. Extra wide.’ She didn’t tell her that the last time she had accidentally borrowed Bridie’s shoes in a hurry, she had apparently stretched the toes so much that Bridie insisted on throwing them away.

Which had seemed an unnecessary waste to Midge, considering they already fitted her, but Bridie had been quite irate.

‘Oh.’ Rona clicked her fingers together suddenly. ‘I know . . . I’ve got a lipstick that would look amazing with your dress.’

It had never occurred to Midge to coordinate her make-up with her clothes. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, ready to decline the offer when something stopped her. ‘Actually, that would be acceptable. Perhaps something subtle . . . oh my goodness . . .’

A garish orange lipstick was produced and pushed against her lips.

‘Do you believe in all this?’ Rona moved closer until her face was all that Midge could see and as she began to apply the lipstick, replying became impossible.

Her skin was flawless, and Midge decided that Rona had to be a person familiar with peptoaminoacids.

‘The paranormal, I mean,’ said Rona, before continuing, ‘I do. There’s got to be some deeper meaning, hasn’t there? Some karma at least?’

Midge shrugged. It was the best she could do, under the circumstances, while she tried to remember if she had brushed her teeth that morning. It occurred to Midge that other than Bridie, this was the closest she had ever been to another human’s mouth in fifty-five years.

Rona pouted her lips at Midge before dabbing on some more colour. ‘I think you’re a woman who has seen the world and lived a thousand lives, like me.’

Midge wondered if Rona was referring to her crow’s feet, which had not disappeared despite Bridie’s wonder mask.

‘Now, Midge, tell me, what do you think of the others?’

Midge lifted a helpless hand in a gesture that could have meant anything.

‘I’m going to just add a little definition to your eyebrows.’ Rona leaned in again and to Midge’s alarm started to stroke her brows with a small comb. Midge was aware of the generational craze for thick eyebrows, having confronted several alarming ones across supermarket checkouts in recent years.

‘Well, obviously, we know there’s a problem between Rendell and Noah already,’ murmured Rona, squinting as she worked. ‘And, let’s be honest, that doctor and his wife are totally uptight.’

Midge grunted, which Rona took as an affirmation. ‘I know, right? And if there’s one thing I love, it’s exploring relationships. Let’s make it our business to get to the bottom of the beef between Rendell and Noah.’

Rona suddenly tilted her head to one side and leaned back, taking her hand away from Midge and freeing her to talk finally. ‘Is something wrong?’ Midge asked.

‘Purple . . . I’m getting a purple aura from you,’ murmured Rona, squinting again.

‘I’ve always been susceptible to colours.

’ Midge hoped she wouldn’t need to change lipsticks now.

‘I can see them for everyone. Dr Mortimer, he’s a green, and Gloria, well, it’s hard to see her colour from behind his but I’m getting yellow vibes .

. . Noah is a definite red . . . and Harold, I suppose he’s harmless enough so all I see is a golden glow around him. ’

‘And Rendell?’ The words were out before Midge could stop them.

A frown crossed Rona’s face, just for a second. ‘Hmmm . . . he’s a tough one.’ She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. ‘His keeps changing.’

Despite herself, Midge asked, ‘Is that normal?’

Rona shook her head, frowning. ‘Not really, no. It’s freaking me out, to be honest.’

She dabbed at Midge’s lips with a tissue.

‘Why?’ murmured Midge.

‘Because when I really look at Rendell . . . shall I let you in to a secret?’ Rona leaned even closer, her breath tickling Midge’s face. She stopped dabbing for a moment and locked eyes with her. ‘I get a really, really bad feeling about this weekend.’