Mistletoe Mystery (12 page)

“Right,” said Meg. “We’ve got him. Come on…”

The girls instinctively held hands as they neared the door.
There was only one old-fashioned electric bulb in the attic and it did not emit
much light, especially in a room packed to the rafters with old furniture and
trunks. They could hear the sound of rustling inside, as if someone were
shifting around little items like books and clothing.

“Who is it?” said Philly, when they reached the open
doorway. She reached for the door and took the key out, somehow feeling safer
with it in her hands. She slipped it into her dressing gown pocket. “Who is in
there?”

The rustling stopped immediately and all became silent. It
felt like something of a stand off, as the girls were too terrified to move
forward, and whoever was in the attic did not want to come out. “Come out of
there now,” said Meg. “We shan’t call the police or anything. We just want you
to leave quietly.”

“Yeah, that told him,” Philly whispered, grinning at Meg’s
idea of giving Matt what for.

“Shut up.” Meg playfully punched Philly on the arm. “If you
don’t come out, we’re coming in to get you. We’ve already telephoned the
police…”

“You just said we wouldn’t,” Philly murmured. “Make your
mind up.” She imagined that Matt would be laughing his head off around
now.  He was a big strong man, who could easily knock down two young
women, and they had not shown themselves to be very brave so far, standing at
the door, offering to let him just walk out of there. She began to wish they
had woken Puck, not just for moral support, but also for some extra muscle.
Then she rallied herself. They were modern young women. They did not need a man
to take care of them. “Right,” she said, sounding braver than she felt. “We’re
coming in.”

She took a step forward, just as something warm and furry
brushed past her bare feet, causing her to scream at the top of her voice.

“What!” said Meg.

“Something just brushed my legs. Ugh, it was horrible.”

The landing light came on and there were heavy footsteps on
the stairs. Within seconds a man came into view on the landing. He was dressed
in pyjama trousers and very little else. “What is it?” he said. “What’s wrong?
Are you alright, Philly, darling?”

“Matt? How? I mean…” She could barely put into words how
pleased she was to see him standing at the top of the stairs and not in the
attic. But if he was not in the attic, who was?

Philly and Meg looked at each other, both wondering what was
happening.

Chapter Ten

“We’ve done a thorough search through the attic and there
was no one there,” said Matt. “I’m sure it was just a rat you heard moving
around up there, darling.”

Philly and Meg had waited in the kitchen whilst Matt and
Puck went to the attic. Some of the guests had come from their room on hearing
Philly scream, but soon went back in bed. The girls sat at the table with hot
drinks, having only just calmed their shattered nerves.

“Just a rat?” said Philly, shuddering. “I’m not sure that’s
very comforting. It was huge.”  She did not ask Matt how a rat could
possibly manage to grab a set of keys and unlock the door. She knew from
listening to his phone call that he had been interested in the attic, and still
did not know whether to trust him.

Whilst Philly and Meg had been alone in the kitchen, Philly
had said, “Maybe Matt just went downstairs for a minute and didn’t realise we
were up there.”

“But someone else was in there too,” said Meg. “We heard
them, didn’t we?”

“Do you think he might have an accomplice?” Philly seriously
wondered if things could get worse.

“It could be. If not, then it means that someone else in the
house is interested in the attic.”

That was definitely under the heading of things getting
worse. Who could they trust if anyone staying at the house for the weekend
could have picked the keys up? She tried to remember who had come out of their
rooms, but she had been so shaken, when walking downstairs, she could not
remember. Besides, not all the rooms were in a direct line with the staircase
and upper hall. Some were around corners, and in the other wings.

“Did you check the dormer window?” she asked Matt, as she
sipped a soothing cup of tea.

“Yep. It was tightly shut, but I don’t think anyone would
climb out on the roof. They’d be crazy to in this weather, with all that snow
up there. Even if they didn’t slip and break a few bones, they’d freeze to
death.”

“I suppose so. Has Puck locked the attic back up?”

“Yes, don’t worry. Maybe it’s a good idea to keep it locked
in future.”

“Hmm, yes.” Philly nodded. It had been locked, but she did
not want to tell Matt that. Let him think they had accidentally left it open.
Otherwise she would have to explain about losing the key, and that might lead
to why she had the key in her pocket attached to a big label saying ‘attic’ in
the first place.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, darling,” said Matt, putting his
hand over hers. Why did that have to feel so good? It would be much easier if
he were ugly and unapproachable, rather than a solid block of gorgeous,
seemingly warm-hearted manhood that she would rather like to cuddle up to and
be comforted by. “But maybe you ought to contact someone tomorrow about putting
some rat traps up there.”

“Yes, good idea. I had no idea we had rats, did you, Meg?
I’m sure there are some environmental health rules about them, regarding running
what is essentially a hotel. You don’t think they’ll close us down, do you?” It
was just one more thing to Philly to worry about.

“I’m sure they won’t.” Matt squeezed her hand again. “I
think you’ll be allowed some leeway in getting rid of them first.” He looked at
her squarely before saying, “It’s a good job you and Meg were having a late
night chat. I’d hate to think of you going up there all alone.”

“Yes, isn’t it just?” said Meg, before Philly could speak.
It was just as well Meg spoke. With the feel of Matt’s hand on hers, Philly was
rendered speechless. “We often do, don’t we, sweetie? It’s nice to have a
girlie chat at the end of the day. Then we went and dozed off, talking about …
oh who was it?”

“Gerard Butler,” said Philly.

“That’s him. Gerard Butler.”

“Does he live around here?” asked Matt.

The girls laughed. “No silly, he’s an actor,” said Philly.

“Someone you know?”

“We wish!” said Meg. “No, he’s out of our league, isn’t he,
love?”

“That’s a relief. I don’t want to have to challenge him to a
duel for Philly’s affections.”

“Are they on about Gerard Butler again?” said Puck, coming
into the kitchen. He handed the attic key to Philly. She winked at him,
silently blessing him for backing up the Gerard Butler discussion.

“Yes, he seems to be a favourite topic of conversation,”
said Matt.

“You have no idea. Especially since he played the Phantom.”

“The phantom what?”

“Of the Opera.”

“Oh…” Matt grinned. “I must have missed that one.”

“Yeah,” said Puck. “You only think women want a tall, dark
handsome man. What they really want is a short, stocky baritone with half his
face covered. If only I’d known it was so easy I wouldn’t have had all the
plastic surgery.” He sucked his cheeks in, and crossed his eyes.

“Of course,” said Meg, mischievously, “if half your face
were covered, Puck, it would be a blessing to us all. Especially since the
surgery didn’t go so well.”

“Oh, there she goes again with the insults.” Puck folded
over as if he had been shot by an arrow. “You wait, Matt. A woman might be all
sweetness and light to you in the beginning, but get to know her better and
she’ll be insulting you on a daily basis. Yet you dare mention that they have a
big bum and see what happens… Not that I’m saying that at all, darling,” he
added hastily, picking up Meg’s hand and kissing it.

Philly was surprised to hear Puck talk as if Matt would be
around forever. Despite laughing, and putting on a brave face, it saddened her.
Because she would not be getting to know Matt at all. Not once he had found
what he was looking for in the attic.

“Oh,” she said, wanting to take the conversation onto other
matters, “I overheard something interesting tonight.” Without telling either
Puck or Matt the full details of how she and Meg came to be eavesdropping
outside the drawing room, she explained what Frank Bennett had said about his
wife’s brother. “I wondered,” she said, when she had finished, “whether it
might be possible to get him on the phone and see what he remembers from that
time.”

“Good idea,” said Matt, “But what about Mrs. Cunningham? If
she was a teacher here at that time, she might remember the details.”

“Of course!” Philly rolled her eyes. “I hadn’t thought of
that. Good idea. I’ll have to do it when Irene Bennett is not around. Are they
on the same kitchen duty, Puck?”

“They were,” he replied, “But it can easily be changed.
Leave it to me.”

“You’re determined to solve the mystery of Dominique, aren’t
you?” Matt said to Philly. “The real mystery that is.”

“I’d just like to know why a young girl just up and
disappeared from my house.”

“But an old man was murdered here too, according to Mrs.
Cunningham.”

“That was solved ages ago. The murderer went to prison. It’s
not related, by the way. Mrs. Cunningham said so. We just threw that into the
script as a red herring, along with the mention of Cold Wars and Space Races.”

“Yeah,” said Puck. “We’re actually leaving the solution to
the guests. We’re going to give a prize for the most imaginative.”

“It could have been the old man’s ghost in the attic,” said
Meg.

“Thanks so much,” said Philly, almost choking on her drink.
“Ghosts were the one thing I hadn’t thought about! Now I shan’t sleep at all.”

“It would solve a lot of problems though,” said Meg,
pointedly. Only Philly and Puck knew that she was talking about Matt.

“I guess you could charge for ghost tours then,” Matt said,
frowning.

Suddenly there was a heavy thud outside the back door. The
girls squealed, whilst the men emitted a manlier ‘Whoa.”

“What the…” Puck went to unlock the door, letting a blast of
icy air into the kitchen. Matt stood up, ready for action but still holding
Philly’s hand in his.

“What is it?” asked Philly. She only noticed she gripped
Matt’s hand tighter when he smiled down at her.

“A little blood to the fingers would be nice,” he said.

“Sorry.” Philly tried to let go completely, but he would not
loosen his own grip.

He winked at her. “I’m not.”

“Some snow has fallen off the roof,” said Puck. “I reckon
we’re in for a thaw.”

“What a pity,” said Meg. “I was looking forward to a white
Christmas.”

The friends all said goodnight, and Matt insisted on walking
Philly to her room. When he embraced her, she welcomed his kiss, wanting to
enjoy, if only for a short time, the comfort and safety of his arms. “You hear
any ghosts, darling, you just holler for me,” he whispered in her ear, before
going back to his own room.

In the early hours, Philly awoke slightly when she thought
she heard the muffled tinkle of breaking glass, followed by one of the guests
swearing. She decided that someone had probably dropped a glass in their room
whilst getting a drink. Exhausted by the excitement so far, she fell back into
a deep slumber.

***

“I don’t care if you have a note from your mother, Puck
Jensen,” Philly said in her best jolly hockey sticks voice, “you’re still doing
P.T. Of course, if you didn’t spend so much time behind the bike sheds,
drinking Guinness and kissing all the girls, you might feel fitter in the
mornings.”

“Aw, Miss,” said Puck, doing a good impression of a stroppy
teenage boy. “P.T. is boring.”

They had turned the ballroom a makeshift gym. There was no
equipment, apart from a couple of hoola hoops and some tennis balls that they
found in the garden shed. Bill Haley and the Comets were playing on the music
system, and Philly was talking the guests through a few very light dance-based
exercises. Not everyone had joined this part of the weekend, due to health
problems or most likely apathy, but even they would not have found the
programme too strenuous.

“And run around in a circle,” said Philly, thoroughly
enjoying herself as she followed the last of the stragglers. She needed the
exercise too, not having had much sleep, and found it invigorating. “Now dosey
doe.”

“What does that mean, Miss?” asked Puck.

“I haven’t got a clue, Jensen, just get on with it.”

The guests laughed.

“You should be jiving to this,” said Mr. Graham. His
friends, the Bennetts got out of the morning exercise by dint of being the janitor
and the nurse. Mr. Graham had drawn the short straw of being a pupil. “I bet
none of you young ‘uns can jive.”

“I can,” said Philly. “So come on, Mr. Graham, put your
money where your mouth is and show the others how it’s done.”

Philly took his hand, and they began jiving, whilst everyone
clapped and cheered. “Mind you,” said Mr. Graham, breathlessly,  as they
jigged around. “In my younger days I could have thrown you over my shoulder.”

“Please don’t do that now,” said Philly, alarmed. “I’m not
sure I could survive it, let alone you.” She spun around, laughing. “Come on,
everyone, join in. Just follow me and Mr. Graham. That means you, Mr. Cassell,
lurking by the door there. Some of these young ladies are short of partners.”

“I’m the headmaster, I don’t have to do Phys Ed. Perk of the
job.”

“I’ll have you know it’s called P.T. in these parts. Or at
least it was in the sixties. Don’t bring your Americanisms here. Pretty soon
we’ll be overrun with burger and coffee bars. Oh yeah, I forget. We are.”

“Okay, ladies, which one of you wants me?” asked Matt.