Chapter One
It was a particularly chilly and damp Saturday afternoon in September, and I was taking a momentary break from the unpacking of boxes to have a quick sandwich and a cup of tea. I'd already laid and lit the log fire and now sat, sleepy and content, in an overstuffed armchair, watching the flames dance and flicker in the grate. And listening to the wind whistling down the chimney like an irate ghost.
I'd only been living in the cottage for a few short weeks, but it felt as though I'd lived there all my life. From the moment I stepped inside at the initial viewing, it had wrapped itself around me like a second skin and I knew I'd come home at last.
It had—or so I thought at the time—been a spur-of-the-moment decision to come back to the island after so many years. But it seemed now as though fate had conspired to steer my actions.
As a child, my family had chosen the island as a holiday destination for two weeks each summer. And one year—the last as it happened—I'd seen and fallen in love with The Yellow Cottage. Coming back so many years later on a whim, I had discovered it was for sale and, to cut a long story short, I bought it.
As I sat there drinking my tea, remembering the rather strange circumstances in which the cottage had become my home, the cat came in. Not a particularly interesting event in itself, I'd agree, except this cat walked in through a solid wall.
I'd idly been wondering why he always chose that particular spot to enter from the back garden, but once I knew the answer it was obvious. I was cleaning the small snug area under the stairs a couple of days ago, having decided it would be a perfect place to use as an office.
Going through the bookshelves, I’d come across a large hardback book, and folded inside were some of the old building plans. Looking closer, I realised that the current door to the back wasn't the original. That had been bricked up and a new opening made further along. Phantom, as I'd named the cat in a particularly unimaginative moment, was using the old doorway. The same one I expect he always used when he'd lived there as a flesh and blood companion.
Phantom was a legacy from Mrs. Rose, the previous owner. She and I had met when I first came to view the cottage a few months ago, and we had chatted briefly whilst simultaneously saving a swan from 'death-by-fishing-line.' It wasn't until I returned to the cottage and Mr. Wilkes, the patiently waiting estate agent, that I found out she'd already been dead for seven months.
As it turned out, Phantom wasn't the only thing Mrs. Rose had left me. But it wasn't until the phone rang and set in motion a series of extraordinary events that I realised just how strange the rest of my life was going to be.
***
It took a minute to find the phone, entombed as it was under a pile of linen and, for some bizarre reason, three odd mittens and a teapot. But eventually I pulled it free and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Ella, it's Jerry. How are you settling in? Everything unpacked?"
I laughed. "Not exactly, Jerry. That's why I was so long answering the phone actually. I'm still knee deep in boxes and can't find a thing."
"Well, you certainly sound happy about it."
"Like the proverbial pig in muck. It's wonderful. You and Ginny really must come and visit, especially now I'm so much closer to London. You could get the train and be here in under an hour. I can't remember the last time we were all together."
"Actually, that's why I'm calling. Ginny is pining for her sister-in-law and wants you to come for lunch tomorrow. Can you make it?"
"Of course I can make it, I'd love to come. Just so long as you don't expect me to dress up. Considering how the unpacking is going I may turn up wearing my dressing gown and Wellingtons."
"Well, I doubt Ginny and I would bat an eyelid. We're used to your odd little ways—not sure how Peter would feel though." He laughed.
"Oh, very funny, you make me sound like some eccentric octogenarian. Wait a minute … who's Peter?"
"Oh, didn't I mention he was coming too?"
"Jerry, you know very well you didn't." I sighed. "Promise me you aren't matchmaking again. You know what an utter disaster your last attempt was!"
"Moi? How could you think such a thing of your dear brother?"
"You really are the most awful liar, you know. Please don't, Jerry. It makes me feel so uncomfortable, and it's not necessary. I'm perfectly happy as I am. More so since I moved here actually. If it happens then it happens, but I'm not going to force it. And I'm certainly not going to be paraded in front of your friends like a prize heifer, no matter how well-intentioned you are."
"Oh, Ella, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you. I just want you to be happy. It's been a few years since John died and I don't think you've been on more than three dates the entire time. I just worry about you, that's all."
"Jerry, I'm not upset, truly, and I am happy. I know you worry, but everything really is wonderful. In fact, I've already made a new friend. Her name is Mini. She lives just up the lane and she's a potter! Can you imagine? She makes the most glorious things and looks like a film star. She's away visiting relatives at the moment, but I'd love for you and Ginny to meet her. You'll see tomorrow that I'm perfectly fine. We'll chat then, all right? I'll get the 11:00am train and should be at your door just after noon."
"I'll meet you off the train, Ella."
I smiled at his concern. It was hard to believe I was the elder of the two of us.
"Jerry, you live a fifteen-minute walk from the station. I'll be fine."
"Darling, if you're going to wander the streets of London in your dressing gown, then I need to be there to prevent you from being carted away and thrown in a padded room. I'll be there waiting. You'll recognise me by the rose in my lapel and I'll be carrying a copy of the Times."
I grinned. Jerry wrote spy thrillers and he loved the clichés.
I dropped my voice to a whisper, "What's the password?"
"Snowmen in winter are a wondrous sight, but beware the yellow one."
I laughed out loud. "Silly ass. I'll see you tomorrow," I said and hung up.
I spent the next two hours sifting through boxes in an attempt to find something suitable to wear. I would have loved to turn up in my dressing gown—the look on Jerry's face would have been priceless and he'd have appreciated the joke—but with a stranger at lunch, I thought better of it.
Eventually, I found a suitable dress, a wrap and boots. With those items set aside, I searched for and miraculously found, in less than half an hour, my jewellery case, and the ensemble was complete.
I was looking forward to seeing Jerry and Ginny again and a Sunday lunch sounded divine. I'd barely made a dent in unpacking the kitchen items since moving in. As long as I had the necessities like tea, I considered it a job well done. I just hoped that this Peter chap wasn't expecting it to be more than it was.
But as it turned out, that was to be the least of my worries.
Chapter Two
I adore train journeys. There's something soporific about the constant clickety-clack of the wheels on the track, the gentle swaying motion, and the speeding by of minute life outside the window.
My carriage was very quiet; there were only two other passengers besides myself. A gentleman with his head stuck in a newspaper and a woman with a cat in a basket on the seat beside her.
Seeing the woman with the cat reminded me of Phantom. One of the many bonuses to having a ghost for a pet was that I hadn't had to arrange for anyone to come in and feed him. As far as I could tell he didn't eat; well, not on my plane of existence anyway. He also didn't leave half-eaten presents for me on the doorstep. He didn't leave hair everywhere or cough up fur balls either, which was a blessing.
I hadn't found it at all odd when he'd walked through the wall that first time. I suppose it was because I'd almost come to expect it, especially after the stories Mr. Wilkes had told me, along with the fact that I'd had a perfectly normal conversation with a woman who had been dead for several months.
I suppose I should have felt more rattled than I did, but for some reason I didn't. It all seemed perfectly ordinary and I found I could just accept it for what it was.
What I did find curious, though, was that Phantom could choose to be solid almost at will. He'd curled up on my lap last evening and let me stroke him and he was as solid as I was. I could feel his weight on my knee and his soft fur under my fingers. I could even feel the gentle vibration in his chest as he purred contentedly, although all of this was done in complete silence. Ghost cats obviously didn't make any noise.
Then, hopping off a little while, later he took on a sort of transparent quality and disappeared through the wall into the garden. I wondered if all spirits could do that. And if they could, were we surrounded by ghosts who appeared to be just as alive as we were yet we didn't know it? I don't suppose we'd know until they decided to walk through a wall.
I hadn't told anyone about Phantom or Mrs. Rose. The only one that knew was Mr. Wilkes, and seeing as though he'd had some unexplained experiences himself, I knew he understood.
I had toyed with the idea of mentioning it to Mini, but as the friendship was new, I didn't want to ruin it by talking about spirits and have her run for the hills. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about it though.
I was still pondering the mystery of it all when the train pulled into the station.
As I walked up the platform, I could see Jerry beyond the barrier. He was wearing a rose in his lapel and carrying a copy of the Times under his arm. I couldn't believe it; I should have worn my dressing gown after all.
As I approached, I sidled up beside him facing the opposite direction and said in a most serious voice, "Snowmen in winter are a wondrous sight."
"Yes but beware the yellow one," he replied.
Unlike the carriage, the station was very busy, and we were awarded several bemused glances as we burst into raucous laughter and made our way outside.
Linking my arm through Jerry's, I said, "So … tell me about your friend Peter. What does he do and how did you meet him?"
***
By the time we reached the apartment I knew as much about Peter Clairmont as Jerry did.
He'd not known him for long, just a matter of weeks actually. They'd met via a mutual acquaintance—at a fund-raising dinner that Jerry had attended—and found they had something in common, namely Jerry's books. It turned out Peter was a fan, and not only that but he was also an aspiring writer and had picked Jerry's brains all night.
As we stepped through the apartment door, I was engulfed in a perfumed hug.
"Ella, it's wonderful to see you. It’s been far too long. I'm thrilled you could come to lunch."
Ginny, as always, was impeccably groomed. The only child of minor aristocracy, she and Jerry had fallen in love quickly and passionately, much to her father's chagrin. Jerry's books were being published by a small independent press at the time and consequently his income wasn't much. Ginny's father felt she could and should do better, but Ginny was adamant she was going to follow her heart.
For the first couple of years they lived on Ginny's trust fund and with the time and freedom to write, along with the support, belief and encouragement from his new wife, Jerry produced not one, but two best-sellers, and their future was assured. Needless to say, Ginny's father had a complete turn-about of opinion and became one of Jerry's staunchest supporters. To hear him talk now you'd think he'd been the one to launch Jerry's career.
"Ginny, how lovely to see you," I said. "It really has been too long. A Sunday lunch is just what I needed. I've barely unpacked the kitchen at the cottage."
As she took my wrap and hung it in the closet, I walked down the hallway and entered the kitchen with Jerry and Ginny on my heels.
"Oh!" I said as I spied a ball of fur curled up on a cushion. "You've got a..." I froze. It was a cat—but not just any cat—it was Phantom. What on earth was he doing here? I knew Ginny would never have a cat—she had allergies.
I realised I was mid-sentence and they were waiting to see what I would say, so I foolishly pushed on regardless, "Lovely view," then looked up to see the ugly wall of the adjacent building staring at me from the window.
I could feel the heat of the blush suffusing my neck and rising to my cheeks. Ella, you idiot, how are you going to get yourself out of this one? I was just about to open my mouth and dig the hole a little deeper, when Jerry saved the day by bursting into laughter.
"Sarcasm, Ella? You must be feeling better. I agree the view is appalling from this window but the rest are wonderful. It's a small price to pay for the location, though. Come, let's go through to the drawing-room and I'll pour us some drinks."
Following Jerry, I glanced back at Phantom, who had extricated himself from the chair and was now padding along silently behind me. If I had any doubt the others couldn't see him it was allayed when we entered the drawing room. He jumped up on to the table right in front of us, and nonchalantly walked its entire length as though he owned the place before settling on the window ledge. Neither Gerry nor Ginny flinched. They really couldn't see him.
I was just hoping that I wouldn't make more of a fool of myself than I already had when the doorman buzzed up to say their guest had arrived. It was time to meet Peter Clairmont. I could only hope Phantom would remain invisible to everyone.
Chapter Three
I hadn't really given a thought to what Peter Clairmont would be like, but as he entered the drawing room with Jerry, I caught Phantom out of the corner of my eye. He was standing with his back arched and his fur on end, his mouth open in a silent hiss and teeth bared menacingly. I glanced back as Jerry made the introductions. Peter seemed harmless enough and was quite pleasant both to look at and in his manner, but Phantom obviously didn't like him at all. I wondered if this was some sort of warning. Could Peter be the reason Phantom was here?
As we all took our seats in the dining-room and the first course was served, the conversation turned to how Jerry and Peter had met. I hadn't realised Ginny hadn't met Peter either, although like me she knew the circumstances of their meeting.
"Well, of course Jerry was extremely generous with both his time and his money at the fundraiser, you know," Peter began. "I must say we raised a terrific amount for the orphanage that night; it was more successful than I dared to hope and will keep us going for a good few months. Jerry was actually the one that got the ball rolling with the first donation. After that it was simply a matter of collecting the loot, so to speak."
Ginny patted her husband's arm and smilingly said, "Well, of course he was, he's the most generous man I know."
"How did you get involved with the orphanage?" I asked, studiously ignoring Phantom, who had taken up residence at the foot of Peter's chair and was staring at him, unblinking.
"Actually, it was my home for a short while. I felt it only right when I reached adulthood to I gave back to those who provided a roof over my head when I needed it most."
Phantom bared his teeth. I ignored him. What on earth was the matter with him?
"Well, that's very commendable, Peter, I must say. We could do with more people like you in the world," said Jerry.
As the dishes were removed and the next course set, I asked Peter what sort of books he wrote.
"Nothing like the fabulous spy thrillers that Jerry pens. I write historical novels mostly, although I'm sure he told you I've yet to actually publish anything."
"Well, I'm sure Jerry would be only too happy to help in that direction, wouldn't you, darling?" Ginny said.
"Of course. Let me know when you're ready and I'll put you in touch with my agent. I can't promise anything, mind you, but it's worth a shot."
Peter smiled, obviously pleased, as I would be in his position.
"That's very kind of you, Jerry. I'll certainly take you up on that offer when I'm ready."
As the main course was taken away and the most fabulous Pavlova arrived in its place, talk moved onto more mundane things and I switched off as I attacked my dessert with gusto. I had always had a sweet tooth and this was one of my favourites.
Phantom had barely moved since we sat down and was still giving Peter the stink-eye. He was like one of those Egyptian statues and I just caught myself in time before I mentioned it. Honestly, it was quite hard work pretending everything was normal when I was the only one who could see the spirit of a cat walking about.
I looked up, having finished my Pavlova, to find everyone staring at me.
"What are you all looking at? Do I have cream on my nose or something?"
I started furiously dabbing at my face with my handkerchief just in case.
Ginny squealed with delight. "No, of course not, silly. Peter was just asking about your cottage and you were ignoring him."
"I wasn't ignoring him, Ginny! I didn't hear him, that's all." Turning to Peter, I said, "I do apologise. I was miles away. What would you like to know?"
"Come on, we'll have coffee in the drawing-room and you can tell Peter all about the cottage," said Jerry.
Comfortably ensconced on the sofa, with Peter at a polite distance next to me and Phantom perched on the arm, still staring at him with complete and utter hostility, I told him the story of how I had come by the cottage and bought it, long after Jerry and I used to holiday there as children. I made it all sound as normal as possible, no mention of ghostly owners or exploding pantries, and absolutely no mention of spectral cats. This must have annoyed Phantom as he shot his paw out and caused me to spill hot coffee all down my dress.
"Oh, Phantom!" I exclaimed as I jumped up.
"Now there's a curse word you don't hear every day," laughed Jerry. "I'll have to remember that for my next book."
At that, we all burst out laughing. To be honest, I still felt like a prize idiot but Jerry, as usual, pulled the embarrassing attention away from me, for which I was very grateful.
After managing to clean up as much as I could in the cloakroom, I returned to announce that it was time for me to catch my train home.
"I'll walk you to the station," Peter said, standing. "I'm heading that way. That's if you don't mind?"
So, with that settled, we thanked Jerry and Ginny for a wonderful lunch and departed with promises we'd get together again soon. Little did I know it would be sooner than I expected.
***
"So you and Jerry used to holiday on the island when you were children?" Peter asked as we made our way to the station.
I nodded.
"I remember one time at the orphanage we had a day trip down there. It was the first time many of us had seen the sea."
"Do you mind me asking how you ended up there?" I asked. I didn't want to appear nosy, especially if he didn't like to talk about it, but I was dying to know.
"No, I don't mind you asking. I don't normally make a habit of discussing it, but you're actually very easy to talk to," he smiled. I blushed, thinking that he was actually quite a nice man. Not good looking in a movie star sort of way, and slightly on the short side, but he had a kind face.
Phantom, trotting beside me, turned and hissed at him again as though he were reading my thoughts. I ignored him and turned back to Peter as he continued.
"My parents were killed in an accident when I was nine. My only next of kin were an Aunt and Uncle, but they'd moved to Ireland before I was born. I didn't know them, although I had heard my mother mention a sister. I think they must have been estranged, as I'd never known them to be in contact. It took the authorities a while to trace them, and during the interim period I was sent to the orphanage to live."
"How long were you there?"
"Just short of four months, but it was summer and we were allowed to play outside a lot and it wasn't as cold inside as it is in the winter. Part of the funds raised recently will go towards an overhaul of the heating system. Plus we had a day trip to the seaside when funds would allow. I think I went twice during my stay which was unheard of. Although after the last one the visits were stopped for a while."
"Oh? What happened?"
He sighed, and his face took on a sad cast.
"One of the girls waded out too far and a rip-tide took her. There was nothing any one could have done."
I stopped, my hand on my heart. "Oh, Peter, how awful. That must have been so traumatic for you and the other children to witness … and that poor girl."
"Well, that's part of the reason why I help. If there had been someone there with training, then I'm sure she could have been saved."
By this point, we'd reached the ticket collector and would have to part ways. "I'm terribly sorry if I opened up old wounds, but thank you for sharing your story with me, and I'm glad you finally found your extended family," I said.
"Well, that's a story for another time," he said with a frown. "It's been a pleasure, Ella. Perhaps we could do it again sometime?"
I sighed inwardly. I hated being put on the spot like this. He'd been a perfect gentleman all through lunch, so I was inclined to believe Jerry when he said he wasn't matchmaking. Even so, there was something holding me back. A niggle of doubt like an itch I couldn't scratch. "Well that's very kind of you, Peter. You never know. Perhaps we'll have lunch with Jerry and Ginny again," I said, smiling and shaking his hand as I presented my ticket to the guard.
I left Peter at the barrier and made my way down the platform. A quick glance down told me Phantom was determined to accompany me on the train.
As I got on and turned right to enter the carriage, he shot in front of me and sat in the doorway preventing me from going any further. Well, even I understood that message, so I turned around and went in the other carriage.
Phantom jumped up on one of the seats and looked at me.
"No, I can't sit there. I have to have my back to the engine otherwise it makes me feel queasy."
"I know what you mean, dear," said a voice.
Oh, good grief. I must have spoken out loud. I looked over and saw the voice belonged to a lady a few seats down. Nodding and smiling, I took the seat opposite Phantom and popped a mint in my mouth. Hopefully that would help me to keep it shut.
Just as the first whistle blew, a child no more than eight years-old shot into the carriage and scrambled under the seat in front of me, obviously hiding. I looked down the aisle, but saw no one chasing her. Glancing out of the window, I saw that all was perfectly quiet on the platform too. I looked back at her, opening my mouth to speak, but she put a finger over her lips to shush me. The pleading look and abject fear in her eyes made me keep quiet.
The carriage began to fill up as people took their seats, but the girl was well hidden, tiny as she was, and luckily no one noticed her. I was having second thoughts about keeping my mouth shut when the train began to pull out of the station. It was then that I noticed Phantom had disappeared.