Page 106 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

‘Noticeably.’

‘I’ll put the heater on,’ I said and drove off. As we continued, I explained who our ghostly companions were, and Raven introduced himself. It all seemed a bit eerie.

We reached Richmond a few minutes later, still well before eight o’clock, and I parked a street away from the agreed meeting point. It was still light, not even twilight yet, being early summer.

Raven appeared jittery. That could be from the ghost chill. It made me shiver, too, even with the heater on full blast.

‘To what mysterious place art we bound?’ the earl demanded. ‘I shouldst not wish to squander my valuable hours once more.’

‘We’re going to keep out of sight in the shadows,’ I said.

‘We?’ Raven looked puzzled. ‘Just you. I’m going to wait outside the pub, as agreed.’

‘The ghosts and I,’ I clarified.

‘Oh, of course.’

We got out of the car. We all set off towards the White Hart pub, the earl propelling himself in his ghostly wheelchair. When the pub came into view, I stopped in the shade under a tree, pulled my phone from my bag and concealed myself as best as possible. ‘I’ll wait here. I hope she shows herself.’

Raven gave me a reassuring smile. ‘I’m confident she will. Her texts showed she was eager to conduct the trade. She’s expecting to make a lot of money.’ He strode on until he was standing outside the pub, first glancing inside, then scouting around the street for anyone approaching.

There wasn’t anyone else, apart from Maisey, Charlotte and Scruffles, who had all gone with him. The earl had remained with me.

‘Might not but we tarry in this place?’ the earl demanded. ‘’Tis certain the revelry wilt be unfolding yonder. And thither is an alehouse. Pray, allow us procure ourselves a libation!’ He wheeled himself off towards the White Hart.

How could the earl get a drink? He was incorporeal. He couldn’t drink beer or wine or... Oh. Maybe he could drink spirits. Surely not. I admonished myself for coming up with a rotten pun, which I promised myself not to share with Raven, but the earl was intent on a drink somehow.

Raven stood near the entrance to the White Hart, oblivious to the surrounding ghosts.

Charlotte and Maisey went inside. Why were they doing that? Maisey wasn’t old enough in one regard, but she’d died a long time ago, so I supposed the age limit didn’t count.

Scruffles barked as the earl approached.

Raven’s gaze swept the area. Maybe he could hear the barking ghostly dog.

He brought his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. Is he sending a message, or did he receive one? It was impossible to tell at this distance.

Raven shoved the phone in his pocket and hurried back to me. My heart rate shot up. All the ghosts had entered the pub now.

‘The meeting point has changed,’ Raven said. ‘We should have anticipated this might happen.’

‘Where is it now?’ And what was I going to do about our ghostly companions?

‘Outside Wimbledon theatre at eight fifteen. Come on. Let’s get back to the car.’

‘Do you think she’s been watching us?’

‘No. You’re out of view from the pub, and if she saw us arrive together from somewhere else, she would have realised this is a trap and wouldn’t have phoned me to arrange a new meeting place. We’re still good, but we need to get moving.’

‘The ghosts are in the pub, though. I need to round them up.’

Raven rolled his eyes. ‘There isn’t time for that, Heather. It’ll take too long to get them all back to the car. We barely have enough time to get to Wimbledon as it is. We need to go now. We’ll have to come back for your ghost friends... if they can’t get home by themselves, that is.’

‘Okay.’ How would the ghosts feel about being left behind? There was no way I could ask them. But it was their own fault for wandering off into the pub.

We scurried back to the car and drove off. Raven directed us to Wimbledon. It wasn’t far, and I easily found the theatre on the high street. With each passing minute, I lost confidence that our plan would work.

I parked within view of the theatre. Raven sauntered over. I guess he was trying to look casual rather than panicked, which we both were. This mission had gone south. We’d surely been rumbled.

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