Page 2 of Dancing with a Ghost

I worked here at Ellison Manor, my parents’ exclusive hotel, as an event planner, organising weddings and conferences. I enjoyed my job most of the time, but meetings like these, where we had to kowtow to the extremely rich and famous, made me realise how out of my depth I was. The hotel was an old manor house, surrounded by manicured gardens and set in acres of open fields. A huge gravel drive led from the main road right up to the front door. There was an east and west wing, an old coach house and various outbuildings.

We were part of the Cheshire set ourselves, the Ellison-Smythes, but instead of driving a red Ferrari like my cousin Jonathan, I drove a clapped out blue Fiat. All my parents’ money had been ploughed into making the hotel a success, and the name brought people in. They were doing well and promised that one day, this would all be mine and Georgie’s.

The only thing is, I didn’t really want the hotel and all the hassle that came with it. Georgie could have that. I just wanted my own dance studio. I’d trained as a dancer, much to my parents’ disappointment. They hated that I’d done that and when the studio I’d put my money into had gone bust, they were more than happy to gloat, offering me a menial position here.

I’d taken it, not having anything else to do, and I enjoyed it most of the time.

The conferences were good. I’d met some interesting people, and the pressure from my mother to meet someone wasn’t there. I felt more at ease doing those.

I sighed as we rounded the corner and entered the luxurious, dark wood panelled room we used for the wedding meetings.

It was furnished with plush red velvet sofas, dark oak coffee tables, and a dresser festooned with fresh flowers. Brightly covered rugs covered an original worn wooden floor.

Jeremy Cartwright sat with his soon to be bride, Tabitha. A woman half his age with blonde, curled hair and immaculate makeup. Dressed to the nines, she wore a pale pink silk shift dress and cream stilettos. A diamond ring the size of Cheshire adorned her ring finger. Jeremy certainly hadn’t skimped on that one! It was bigger than the one his last bride had worn.

Mother was her usual efficient self, offering them coffee before running through the plans I’d made for them as if they were her own. She did this every time and every time. I vowed I’d do no more weddings where she would take the credit.

Tabitha oohed and ahhed at everything Mother said, and when we got to the flower selection, she was over the moon. I’d suggested a selection of orchids to go with the paradise theme they’d gone with. That was the thing with this venue, we could tailor it to suit each couple.

They hoped to hold the wedding outside in the grounds, but that would depend on the weather. It had given for a sunny day, but you never knew. A sudden downpour could spoil all the plans I’d made.

“Oh my God, Hilary, you’ve done everything just as I wanted.” Tabitha gushed to my mother. “And I thought you were the Event Planner, Toby. You’re terrible, making your mother doallthe work.”

Dear Tabitha was the same age as me, maybe even younger, but instead of speaking up, I smiled through gritted teeth and nodded my head. Little did they know.

“Oh, he’s a good boy really, tries his hardest, but sometimes, times like these call for a woman’s touch, don’t you think?” Mother's smile was sweet, but she had the heart of a viper.

Jeremy looked on adoringly at his child bride, happy to go along with whatever she wanted. He was just the money man, brought along for his fat wallet.

“Whatever my little angel wants, she gets. Isn’t that right?” He looked at her fondly. If he was a cartoon, there'd be hearts in his eyes.

Mother nodded too. We were like a pair of those bobble head figures, agreeing with every word the paying customer was saying.

A noise off to my left had me turning towards it. What the hell?

Was that? It couldn’t be. There was no way that vase of flowers was moving on its own. It moved, inch by inch, towards the edge of the dresser, the huge white peony blooms edging their way ever closer.

I opened my mouth to speak, but to say what exactly?

“Shhh.” A voice close to my ear had me swivelling in my chair, just as the vase fell to the floor.

I jumped to my feet as both women squealed.

Broken glass, water, and crumpled blooms were everywhere and was that my imagination or was someone laughing?

"Don't move, Mother. I'll get this sorted out. " The water was seeping towards my leather portfolio case and I bent down, snatching it up before it got soaked, placing it on the table in front of Jeremy and Tabitha. The dresser held some cleaning cloths, so I grabbed a few, throwing them on the floor to soak up the water. I’d deal with the glass later, when our clients had gone.

"Oh, who did this?" I turned to see Tabitha with some of my notes in her hand. Not only did I write, but I drew images as well to get a feel of how things would look. The image she was looking at was the aisle and how the placement of flowers would best work.

I reached across, carefully removing the paper from her hand.

"It's nothing. Just something I drew." Before I could stop her, she'd picked up the papers from the portfolio, sifting through page after page of drawings and notes.

"You did all of this?" I looked over at Mother. She did not look happy, but what could I do? It wasn't like I'd left them there to be found. If it hadn't been for the water spilling on the floor, no one would have been any the wiser.

"Well, I often ask Toby to do some drawings for me." I'll give Mother her due. She never faltered once, the lies tumbling from her lips as I sat there and said nothing, like the dutiful son I was. I couldn't rock the boat, and as much as I was unhappy with my current career choice, there was nothing else I could do.

"Oh, well, I think they're amazing. Maybe you could do some on the day. If that's not too much trouble." Tabitha looked at me, a hopeful look on her face.

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