Chapter Five #2
Pixie nodded slowly. ‘What does Madge do?’
‘She makes the tea and cakes, and sometimes helps out in the costume department, although her sewing leaves much to be desired.’ Emma laughed fondly.
‘She’s as much part of the place as the stage itself, so we find things for her to do to keep her involved.
It’s been her life. She seems to know a lot about the paranormal.
She was the one to point out that what happened on stage was the doing of a ghost and not someone living, which is what my husband thinks.
In fact, Madge was the one who recommended we call you.
She knows someone in St Sidwell who told her about you sorting out a ghost in the big house there a while back. ’
Pixie was astonished. That was another coincidence – which wasn’t a coincidence.
She felt a frisson of excitement. There could be no clearer sign that she was about to be reunited with Cavill.
The anticipation of sliding back to him caused her spirits to soar.
‘Really, she knows someone in St Sidwell?’ Pixie asked.
Emma nodded. ‘That’s what she said. Did you, in fact … ?’
‘Yes, I released an earthbound spirit there last January.’
‘That’s what Madge said. She said you had pink hair.’
‘Well, she’s right about that,’ Pixie laughed.
‘Madge thinks it’s definitely a ghost and that it doesn’t like Isadora. Well, I can’t say anything about that, but it didn’t interrupt anyone else’s scenes,’ Emma went on.
‘Has Isadora experienced anything like this before?’ Pixie asked.
‘Not that I know of.’ Emma drew up outside the hotel. ‘But you can ask her. We’ve put her up here too.’
Brambling House Hotel had once been a stunning private home.
Built in the eighteenth century it was harmoniously proportioned with big sash windows, a pale stone facade and a pillared front door positioned beneath a half-moon transom window.
Inside, however, the good taste had been squeezed out of it, like juice from a delicious orange.
Bent to the will of a local authority completely lacking in taste and sensitivity, there was precious little of the original building left.
Health and Safety had sacrificed beauty at the altar of utility and practicality, and the result was disappointing for Pixie and Ulysses who loved history, especially historic buildings.
It wasn’t the Aldershoff, but it was nonetheless comfortable with big beds, crisp white sheets and clean en-suite bathrooms.
As they returned to the hall where Emma was waiting for them on the sofa, flicking through Country Life magazine, the door opened and in swept Isadora Nash in a cream-coloured leather trench coat, wide-legged cream trousers and black leather boots.
She wore a matching cashmere polo neck, oversized dark glasses and a berry-red fedora.
Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and falling down her back.
If she wanted to shout ‘movie star’, she could not have dressed more appropriately.
She was followed by her assistant Lezli, straining beneath the weight of a large number of shopping bags.
When Isadora saw Emma, she sighed melodramatically and took off her dark glasses.
‘I’ve spent the day shopping,’ she declared.
‘Not much to buy around here – it’s hardly Rodeo Drive – but I needed retail therapy.
I’ve been so upset. I didn’t know what else to do with myself! ’
Emma dropped the magazine onto the coffee table and stood up with the hastiness of a private in front of a field marshal. ‘Can I introduce you to Pixie Tate, Isadora?’ she asked. ‘She’s the medium who’s come down from London to get rid of the ghost.’
‘If it is a ghost,’ said Isadora sulkily, looking sceptical.
She didn’t put out her hand. It was as if she considered Pixie staff, and she didn’t bother with staff.
Ulysses, however, was altogether different.
On seeing him, tall and absurdly handsome, Isadora’s face opened into a radiant smile.
‘And you are?’ she asked, extending her hand.
‘I work with Pixie. Ulysses Lozano, at your service.’
Isadora let out a light, tinkling laugh, like a pretty bell. ‘You can be at my service any time, Ulysses Lozano,’ she said, and gave him the full benefit of her kitten eyes.
Emma felt embarrassed for Pixie, but Pixie didn’t look in the least surprised to see Isadora fawning over Ulysses. ‘Perhaps you’d like to have a quick word with Pixie before I take her to the theatre,’ she suggested.
It was as if Isadora hadn’t heard. ‘Let’s all go and have a cup of tea, as the English love to say,’ she suggested, without taking her hungry eyes off Ulysses.
She threaded her hand through the crook of his arm and led him off towards the dining room.
‘If you’ve come all the way from London, you must be starving.
Did you come on the train? I imagine the food on the train is gross.
Let’s go and demand a full English tea in the dining room. ’
Emma did not bother to go and buy Ulysses a sandwich and Lezli went to put the shopping in Isadora’s suite, which was the best set of rooms in the hotel.
Emma, Pixie, Ulysses and Isadora settled into comfortable armchairs positioned around a table in front of a large bay window, and Isadora waved over a waiter and ordered tea, scones, clotted cream and jam.
‘There’s nothing to do here but eat,’ she exclaimed cheerfully.
‘I’ve put on five pounds, and I’ve only been here a couple of weeks. ’
‘Then you should thank the scones, because those five pounds suit you,’ said Ulysses, and Pixie gave Emma a knowing grin; Ulysses, although gay, flirted with anything that had a pulse.
Isadora laughed again. In the dazzling glare of Ulysses’ beauty, she seemed to have forgotten all about the unfortunate mishaps on stage.
Shortly, the waiter returned with a tray of pretty china cups and a matching teapot, a three-tier cake stand laden with little sandwiches and not so little scones, still warm from the oven.
While Ulysses tucked into a scone with the relish of someone who hadn’t eaten for weeks, Pixie took the opportunity to ask Isadora some questions.
‘Can you tell me exactly what happened to you on stage?’ she said.