“Jenny –” Abby began with a warning in her voice that her friend was digressing to oft-gone-over ground.
“At the time,” Jenny continued, ignoring Abby’s warning, “you were just going to be a paid escort, wearing fancy clothes and eating fancy dinners and being on the arm of a hot guy. So you’d have to pretend to be his girlfriend and sleep in bed with him at a spooky castle. It was supposed to be platonic! It was supposed to be easy money! It was supposed to be a reason for us to go shopping for fancy clothes! But no…” Jenny drew out the “no” with exaggeration, “now, you’ve agreed to have sex with him while in said spooky, haunted castle where, I will remind you, over the centuries five, that is five…” she held up five fingers, “women, all of them blonde, which you also are in case you hadn’t noticed, and all of them the lovers of the man of the house, which you will be if you go through with this, God help you. And all of them were murdered by a malevolent ghost!” she finished on a shout.
Abby had heard the story of the famously homicidal ghost of Penmort Castle. Everyone had, it was lore. Though many people had claimed to see the ghost of the raven-haired woman floating around doing nasty things to guests and servants but never to family, unless that family happened to be sleeping with the man of the castle, as in, say, his wife (which it was always his wife, only on one occasion was it his mistress), no one had proof that she actually killed anyone.
Of course, all the possible witnesses were dead.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Abby told her friend.
Jenny threw up her hands, stared at the ceiling and exclaimed, “Huh!” Then her eyes moved back to Abby. “Excuse me, but weren’t you with us when we used that bizzar-o board with the magnifying glass in a plastic heart to call up the ghost of Wendy’s grandma our sophomore year? Wendy’s grandma knew Wendy had slept with Kathleen’s boyfriend Brian! Who would know that but Wendy, Brian and a being from beyond the veil? Kathleen freaked when Grandma spilled the beans. You believed in ghosts then!”
Abby had to admit, Jenny wasn’t wrong. Everyone had freaked. Though it had to be said, no one had freaked more than Kathleen that was an interesting night.
Abby tried a different tactic. “Cash Fraser isn’t the man of the house.”
“No, he isn’t, officially. What he is, is the illegitimate son of the now-dead man of the house. If things were different, if Anthony Beaumaris had married Cash’s Mum, that castle would be his. I don’t know if ghosts can tell the difference but you probably won’t have the opportunity to explain this detail before she pushes you down a stone stairwell, plunging you gruesomely to your death.”
After that dramatic statement was uttered, before Abby could get a word in, they heard a throat being cleared.
Both women turned to the door and Pete, Abby’s handyman, was standing there.
Since Abby returned to England Pete had been a fixture in her life. She liked Pete, she liked him a lot.
She still wished she didn’t see so damned much of him.
On the wrong side of fifty, Pete was stocky and medium height. He had a weathered face, a shock of dark hair peppered with grey and a gentle manner.
He’d been a trusted friend of Abby’s grandmother’s and now he was a trusted friend of hers.
“Abby love, sorry to interrupt but…” he hesitated and Abby braced for bad news.
For the last year Pete had been the bearer of many a bad tiding. The roof needed to be re-tiled. The windows needed to be replaced. The insulation needed to be ripped out and re-installed. There was mildew and damp. It never ended.
Now he was there looking at the bath for every time Abby took a shower it rained in the vestibule. This, Abby, even not being very au fait about such things, didn’t think was a good sign.
“Just sock it to me, Pete,” Abby encouraged on a pretend smile.
He shifted on his feet. “I think I’m gonna have to bring a man in.”
Abby sighed.
It was never good when Pete had to bring a man in.
“Or two,” Pete finished.
Abby’s stomach clenched, she turned and looked at Jenny, an any more questions? expression on her face.
She looked back at Pete and said, “Call them in.”
Pete looked uncomfortable. “We’re talkin’ plumber and electrician. They might be pricey, but I’m not qualified –”
“Call them in, Pete,” Abby repeated.
“You probably shouldn’t take a shower for awhile,” Pete went on.
“Okay,” Abby replied.
“Or a bath,” Pete continued.
Abby stared.
She only had one bathroom. Well, she had three. It was more to the point that she only had one working bathroom.
“No bath?” she whispered.
“Water damage to the floorboards. You fill up that roll top tub and get in it, it could go through the floor,” Pete explained.
Visions of Abby, na**d and bathing, crashing through the floor of her ancestral home did not make Abby feel warm all over.
“Call in the guys, Pete,” Abby said quietly.
Pete nodded, looking about as happy about his errand as Abby was. He gave a chin lift to Jenny and backed out.
When Abby turned back to Jenny she thought her point had been made. She also thought it was time to fire up her computer and check her bank balance.
James, who Abby had met only once through Kieran who Abby had known for twelve years because he was Jenny’s husband, through Jenny, was playing Abby’s… she hesitated because the word “pimp” didn’t sound nice, so she decided to think of him as her business manager.
James was supposed to tell Cash to transfer a quarter of the agreed amount into her account. He was also supposed to give Cash her phone number so she’d be reachable by Cash. The down payment would be augmented the day they went to the castle when Abby would get another quarter of the money. The last half would be transferred at the end of the arrangement.
Fifty thousand pounds would go a long way toward paying a plumber and electrician. It would also pay off what she owed Pete, who allowed her to pay an instalment on a monthly basis but she had an ongoing and growing balance that she owed him. It would also allow her to bring current the two loans she’d had to take against the house. Not to mention the two credit cards which were maxed out. And her line of credit with the bank that was over the limit.
When she opened her mouth to make her point to Jenny, Jenny got there before her and asked softly, “I still don’t know why you don’t just sell this house.”