Page 6 of The Legend of Lovers Hollow

“I didn’t mean–” Wally squeaks again. “I just—” He turns to me, obviously deciding I’m the safer option. “Mr Ashton-Drake is wandering around the third floor in his underpants again. Do you want me to try and convince him to put some trousers on before the new guests arrive?”

I chuckle as Morgan sighs in resignation. “It’s okay, Wally, I’ll go and speak to him. Why don’t you go and see if Rosie needs any help?”

“Will do.” He gives Morgan a timid smile and scurries out of the room.

“He gets nervous,” I say as I take his hand. “You could try to be a little less scowly.”

“This is my natural face.”

“And it’s gorgeous.” I press a kiss to his lips. “But maybe you could try a little harder with Wally. A little smile would go a long way.”

He huffs. “I’ll smile when the hotel is back in the black and the resident ghosts stop getting into trouble with the afterlife bureaucracy.”

“Come on.” I tug his hand and lead him towards the door. “Let’s see if we can convince Cedric to put his trousers back on.”

2

“Right, then. Are we all accounted for?” I call out into the dark, cramped space.

“Will someone please put the light on?” Edwina’s prim tone from somewhere beside me grates on my ears. “Honestly, Bertie, this really is all rather improper. I don’t know why you keep insisting on meeting in cupboards.”

The bare light bulb above us flickers a couple of times and then lights up the tiny space. Attempting to rise on my tiptoes—admittedly, not an easy feat with half a dozen bodies pressed up against me—I do a quick head count.

Leona is pressed up against Edwina, and I can just about make out Roger’s neatly combed blonde hair behind the shoulder of Rear Admiral Hilary. Skid’s lime-green mohawk is also easy to spot behind Professor Plume, who’s glaring at me with his usual sour expression and that bloody knife still sticking out of his neck. It’s not like we haven’t shown him how to change his appearance, he just refuses to. He’s such a drama queen.

His eyes narrow in my direction, and his mouth tightens further in displeasure. “What?” I ask gruffly.

“Why does it always have to bethiscupboard?” He sulks. “You know very well this is the one my body was stuffed into.”

“Yes, well.” I purse my lips. “Apologies and all that, but this is the only one big enough for all of us that no one uses any more. And more importantly, it’s one that Stanley chap doesn’t know about.”

“Admiral!” Roger yelps. “Will you get off my foot?”

“If you don’t keep your voice down, mate, Stan’ll find us,” Skid’s voice calls from the back.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Roger hisses. “It’s not your toes going numb.”

Leona makes a series of gestures, and Admiral Hilary’s bushy moustache wrinkles. “I say, that’s not very ladylike.”

“My toes!” Roger keens, and suddenly, Admiral Hilary pitches forward like he’s been pushed. He crashes into Plume, who stumbles and face-plants into Edwina’s bosom.

“How dare you!” She gives a loud and scandalised gasp, then cracks him sharply over the head with her folded fan.

Leona also takes the opportunity to give him a good swift kick in the shins on behalf of her friend.

Before I can open my mouth to say a word, the prof is being hauled off Edwina by Skid.

“You alright, Eddy?” he asks.

Edwina blushes hard in the dim light. “Thank you, Mr Skid.”

“All right, settle down.” I clap my hands. “There really isn’t enough room in here to start a brawl.”

“Bertie,” Skid says, “why don’t you tell us why we’re here? The sooner we can get out of this cupboard, the better.”

“Fine.” I huff. “We’re here because, once again, Ellis and the other fleshies have decided to host an event at the Ashton-Drake.”

Edwina sighs. “A ball?”