Page 15 of Love At First Fright
Seen any ghosts?came the reply.
Her dad knew she could see ghosts. When Rosemaryturned thirteen, she’d decided to tell her parents, though neither of them had seemed surprised. As it turned out, her mama knew her own mother had been able to see the dead, and Rosemary wasn’t very good at whispering when she was chatting to invisible people. But just as her nana had instructed her, her parents had told her not to tell anyone other than the people she trusted the most.
A couple. London is an old city.
Be careful.
I will. See you soon. Love you, Dad x
Love you, sweetpea,he signed off.
Heart feeling a little fuller, Rosemary shut the door to her room.
She made her way down to the cast and crew dinner. She didn’t know what to expect; would the vibe be similar to the meeting, or would it have a more relaxed air? Would people bring their significant others, assuming most of them were in London?
“Dinner is in the library, madam,” said a fancily tailored butler, indicating she should follow him through the foyer. What a strange world she had stepped into, a world where butlers called her madam. In this dress, she certainly earned it.
The library was one of the most beautiful rooms she’d ever seen. Chiefly because of the books. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each one hand carved in dark cherrywood, lined the walls, and she even spotted a ladder in the corner to reach the books higher up. Everything about this room was classy and warmly decorated, from the gold-foiled book spines to the long table filledwith china jugs of dahlias and asters, lit with candles on gleaming brass candlesticks. The room might have been cold if not for the crackling fire to her right. She was perhaps a little late to the party and would have to continue admiring the room from her seat.
Rosemary looked out for Lyn but couldn’t spot them, not that she was surprised. If Lyn hadn’t been allowed to even sit at the table, she suspected they wouldn’t have been invited to dinner. It was a much smaller group, perhaps ten or twelve of them. Jeremy was here, with a beautiful woman on his arm who whispered in his ear. She wondered what she saw in a man like Jeremy.
Rosemary found her name and took her seat, eyeing all the different forks and knives. She sent a silent thanks to Dina. At Immy’s wedding last year, Dina had explained to Rosemary (who had never felt like more of a country bumpkin in her life) the order in which she was meant to use the forks and knives, and for which course. Who knew the British had invented a fork you were only allowed to use for cheese?
“Hello again,” a deep, rumbling voice said, and Rosemary looked up to see Ellis sitting down opposite her. He was wearing a dark blue turtleneck sweater, his dark hair brushed back, his grey eyes still cold and scolding.
“Did you have a good afternoon?”
What was he playing at? Was he pretending he didn’t remember pushing her into the pool only an hour before?
“For the most part,” Rosemary replied, not meeting his gaze but perusing the drinks menu with attempted nonchalance. Her insides were squirming.
“How are the killer mermaids?” Ellis smirked.
“Totally unsalvageable, thanks to you.”
“I’d apologise again but I doubt you’d believe me.”
Rosemary looked at him over the top of the menu. “Finally, we agree on something.”
“I do need to ask, though,” Ellis said, “why were you reading about killer mermaids in a pool?”
Rosemary shrugged. “It’s relaxing.”
“Please enlighten me as to what exactly is relaxing about reading aquatic horror whilst in a body of water?”
Why did he want to know?
“It’s a cathartic escape. You’re safe within the pages of the book, even if the characters are meeting their grisly ends.”
“I thought horror was meant to be scary, not safe?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Just then, before Ellis could throw her a devilish retort, a woman sat down beside him. She was, predictably, gorgeous. And young, early twenties. Rosemary supposed that should also have been predictable for someone in Ellis’s position, but she felt oddly disappointed in him. The woman had tanned skin and beach-blond hair; she looked like sunshine had been formed into a human being. Something in Rosemary’s chest tightened.He has someone.She wasn’t sure why that bothered her.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” The woman raised an eyebrow at Ellis.
“Of course. Jenna, this is Rosemary. Rosemary, Jenna.”
“Lovely to meet you, Rosemary. Are you one of the ghosts? If you don’t mind me saying so, you look like you’ve just stepped out of a painting.”
