Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(96)

During her shopping efforts, Abby had purchased a handsome, scarlet-red table runner which ran the length of the dining table. Cash’s sleek, classy, black crockery lay amongst his silver and glassware, the plates hiding the circular, quilted grey pads that Abby also bought. Scarlet napkins Abby picked up with the table runner were folded in rectangles and sat at a slant on each plate.

The aroma of roasting rosemary chicken filled the air and Nina Simone sang softly in the background.

Abby was pleased with Fenella’s comment and further pleased that she was right. Cash’s place was gorgeous but now it didn’t look just show-home gorgeous, it looked home-home gorgeous.

“What’s that smell?” Mrs. Truman, sniffing the air disdainfully, demanded to know.

“Chicken,” Abby answered.

“Chicken?” Mrs. Truman clipped. “I thought we were going to have beef.”

“You talked about beef,” Abby told her. “I never talked about beef.”

Mrs. Truman shot her a glare and then mumbled, “I was expecting beef. All day, I’ve had a taste for beef. Now I get chicken.”

Abby fought a smile and caught Nicola staring at Mrs. Truman in barely-hidden horror.

“Ignore her. She’s crotchety,” Abby told Nicola. “You’ll get used to it.”

Nicola’s eyes came to Abby and she nodded, looking relieved at Abby’s amused acceptance of the older woman but Mrs. Truman spoke.

“I’m not crotchety. I’m particular,” Mrs. Truman informed Nicola. “I like things a certain way. Manners. Behaviour,” her eyes came to Abby, “for instance, people keeping their promises.”

“I didn’t promise you beef,” Abby asserted.

“You did,” Mrs. Truman told her.

“Didn’t,” Abby shot back.

“I’m going to look at the rest of the house,” Jenny cut in. “Abby, you want to show us around?”

Abby’s eyes went to the clock.

Cash had said he’d be home by six thirty but it was five past seven. It wasn’t unusual that he was late, what was unusual was that he hadn’t called.

She shook her head at Jenny but invited, “You all have a look. I’ll get everyone a drink.”

“White wine,” Mrs. Truman ordered sharply as she headed for the stairs, not even attempting to conceal her curiosity at viewing the rest of Cash’s house. Then she finished, “Chilled.”

“That sounds good to me,” Nicola put in, following Mrs. Truman.

“Me too,” Fenella added. She was right on her mother’s heels.

“You know what I drink,” Jenny told Abby and turned to the stairs.

“G&T,” Cassandra requested, moving after the others.

“I’ll just help Abby,” Honor, to Abby’s surprise, stated and the women climbed the stairs.

“That’s nice of you,” Abby muttered, even though she was unsure. She hadn’t yet made her mind up about Honor.

Honor’s eyes were on the stairs and after Cassandra’s booted foot disappeared, she turned to Abby and said in a whisper, “Not really, I needed a chance to talk to you when Mummy wasn’t around.”

Abby went on guard and looked at Honor.

Her face seemed intent, though not unfriendly, but something about it made Abby mentally brace.

Still, Abby replied in a soft voice, “Okay. Can we talk while we make the drinks?”

Honor nodded and Abby asked her to see to Cassandra’s gin and tonic, telling her where to find the liquor and glasses while Abby went to the fridge for the wine.

When she had the wine and was uncorking it, she turned to Honor. “What is it?”

Honor glanced to the side, her eyes catching Abby’s. “Fenella told me what’s going on.”

Abby bit her lip, not sure this was a good thing.

Honor continued, “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re crazy. I know Vivianna exists, I know what she does. So does Suzanne. And, he’s never mentioned it, but I know Alistair does too. The only person who hasn’t seen her is Mummy.”

Abby pulled the cork out of the bottle and asked, “Really? Why not?”

Honor shrugged. “Don’t know. Always thought that was strange, but she never shows or makes a peep when Mummy’s around. Anyway, she, Vivianna I mean, doesn’t do harm to us girls. I think she even likes Suzanne.”

Abby could understand that. Evil, Abby guessed, would know (and like) evil. She didn’t mention this philosophy to Honor for obvious reasons and Honor kept talking.

“I get the feeling she hates Alistair. A lot. She’s always doing things to annoy him when Mummy’s not around. Moving his stuff. Tripping him up as he’s walking through the house. Screaming when he’s on the phone.” Honor stopped and shivered, mumbling, “God, I hate it when she screams.”

Abby’s hand arrested while taking down a wineglass. “She screams?”

Honor nodded. “That’s the worst. It isn’t like a regular scream. It’s low, eerie, sinister. Just hideous.”

“That’s awful,” Abby whispered, thinking it bloody well was.

Who could live like that?

“Yes,” Honor replied and her eyes went to the stairs before she moved to the refrigerator for ice. “We don’t have much time and that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”