Page 61 of The Legend of Lovers Hollow

“That’s a tomorrow problem.”

15

“Ow, my foot!” Professor Plume complains loudly. “Bertie, would you care to explain why we’re back in this bloody cupboard?”

“As much as I hate to say it”—Skid sniffs—“the prof has a point. Why are we back in the cupboard? It’s not like Stan don’t know about it. He’s going to find us, you know that, right?”

The light above us flicks on and the tiny, cramped cupboard is flooded with light.

“Actually, I’m actually already here,” Stanley says from where he’s pressed up against Rear Admiral Hilary, his clipboard squashed between them.

“Bertie, what’s going on?” Skid asks, ignoring Stanley, who’s a bit pale and wide-eyed and also seems to be somewhat disinclined to speak further. I’m beginning to wonder if the poor chap isn’t in a smidge of shock.

“Um, I think there might be a spot of trouble on the old horizon,” I admit with a wince.

“Why?” Professor Plume demands. “What did you do?” His eyes narrow on me, and I bristle at the accusation in his gaze.

I huff indignantly. “Actually, I didn’t do anything.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but I cut him off before he can accuse anyone else. Honestly, we were quite pleased to welcome some fresh blood into the fold just after New Year’s, but he’s turning out to be a bit of an insufferable bore. One can only hope the next few decades dull some of the edges of his personality.

“None of us did,” I add.

“It was the fleshies,” Roger pouts. “They held a séance in the lobby.”

“We know,” Rear Admiral Hilary says gruffly. “But they’re harmless. Just a load of old blarney. It’s all rather dull, that’s why most of us kept away. Had better things to do.”

“Yes, well.” I purse my lips. “This one wasn’t harmless. I think they might have woken up Lady Clare’s unholy triad.”

“What?” Skid frowns. “What do you mean?”

“There was definitely some paranormal activity going on, and not our kind. It was all rather frightful, to be honest.”

“They’re scary,” a small voice pipes up, and we look down.

“Alright, Artie.” Skid nods in greeting.

“What do you mean by scary?” Professor Plume asks.

Leona makes a series of gestures, well as much as she can considering she’s pinned to the door.

“For god’s sake, woman,” Plume snaps. “I can’t understand a bloody word you’re saying. Will someone get her a notepad and a pen or something?”

“She said, their spirits were restless… and angry,” Edwina says in a subdued tone. “I could feel it as well.”

“Who, Lady Clare?” Skid asks.

“And I imagine her husband and lover too,” I muse.

“This is not good,” Stanley mutters, shaking his head. “This is not good at all. How could you let this happen?”

“We didn’t do anything,” I remind him.

“Exactly! Why didn’t you stop them?”

“Because, like Hilary said, these séances are just a load of balderdash. Nothing remotely interesting ever happens unless one of us can be bothered to show up and rattle a few tables or flick the light switch. How were we supposed to know it was going to–” I look at him expectantly. “What exactly did it do?”

“It woke up three potentially homicidal spirits!” he replies, his voice rising, a thread of panic laced through it.