Chapter 8

I thought the day couldn’t get any better, but Alum called and invited me to lunch at a restaurant in town.

I was delighted at first, but then I remembered something the Millionaire Matchmaker said. At least I think she was the one who said it. Dinner means he’s serious; lunch means he’s not. Or had I read that somewhere? Nevertheless, I sure hoped it wasn’t true.

Again, I was at a loss as to what to wear. In my town, people only dressed up for funerals and weddings. I didn’t want it to appear overtly as if I had made an effort, so I went to a lot of effort to make it look as though I hadn’t. I finally decided upon white linen trousers, a pretty blouse in blue, and my favorite shoes. Alum always wore good quality shoes, and that, according to my grandmother, meant he was generous. She used to say not to marry a man who wore cheap shoes, because he would be mean with money. I smiled at the memory. I popped in my blue topaz earrings, and decided to take my wide-brimmed white straw hat, trimmed with a pretty silk scarf in blues and grays. I would need it if we were going to sit outside in the harsh Australian sun. I stared at myself in the mirror—not too closely, mind you.

I set off for the restaurant after leaving Mary in the walled garden with a squeaky toy and a big bowl of water. Even a dingo couldn’t jump those high walls. Mary had so far shown no signs of separation anxiety, and I had bought a dog door so she could go between the house and the walled garden at will.

I arrived at twelve precisely. One benefit of living in a small country town was that no one was ever early or late, as everything was within a five minute drive. My heart thumped as I parked the car and tottered inside on my heels. It was raining lightly, and the scent of freshly cut grass from the adjoining park was delightful. I liked this restaurant. Modern artworks in every style and size imaginable covered the warm yellow Tuscan walls. The restaurant was light and airy, with a welcoming atmosphere. Sofas were arranged around the edges in a way to encourage conversation. The tables and chairs were an eclectic collection of vintage pieces. There was a courtyard to the side, with tables under a grape covered pergola set in a lovely garden. The restaurant was invariably crowded at night, but today, at lunch, there were only two other patrons. On another couch, a man was reading the newspaper, while his companion was reading her tablet.

Alum was already sitting at a small table in one corner, by a large picture window overlooking the garden. As he stood up, a look of pain crossed his face. I hurried to his side. “Alum, are you all right?” He nodded. I helped him sit back down. “You shouldn’t have come out.”

He smiled weakly. “I wanted to see you.”

My heart leaped out of my chest. I was at a loss for words, so smiled back and took my seat. “So how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good, despite appearances. My doctor warned me against being impatient. I’m quite bored being on sick leave, but, well, you know, the alternative would have been far worse.”

I shuddered. For quite a while I had thought Alum was dead and that I was speaking to his ghost. I was overjoyed when I found out that I had in fact been speaking to his spirit while he was in a coma. Recently, I had thought there was a good chance of a relationship, but now I wasn’t too sure. We seemed to be tip-toeing around each other. I was concerned that I had imagined his attraction to me in the first place. Perhaps he had friend-zoned me. I sure hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Prudence?”

I looked up, startled, realizing that Alum was speaking to me. “Sorry? I was a million miles away.”

The waiter arrived to take our orders. Alum ordered Carbonara pasta, and I was relieved when he did. That meant my choice of the other night was suitable. I was starving, but I ordered the same meal because I didn’t want to stuff my face when he was unable to do so. I really wanted to order the crumbed lamb with black olive crust with caramelized onion purée, but I managed to resist, for Alum’s sake.

As soon as the waiter left, Alum leaned forward. “Larry Brown says that you’ve accepted the position.”

“Yes, I have, but I’m on a trial first. I have to give him information about Mrs. Cornford’s killer in order to get the permanent job.”

“You’ll be able to do that, won’t you?”

I thought I detected hesitation in Alum’s voice. “Yes, I’m sure I will. Fairly sure, anyway.”

Alum patted my hand. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Just stay safe, won’t you, Prudence?”

His smile warmed me right through. “I’m sure I’ll be safe. I don’t think the killer will go back to Mrs. Cornford’s house.”

Alum abruptly stopped touching my hand. “What do you mean? Why do you have to go back to the house?”

I was puzzled. “To speak to the spirit, of course.”

“Can’t you speak to the spirit anywhere?” He sounded concerned.

I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t work like that. Someone who’s been murdered tends to stay around a familiar place.”

Alum leaned forward. “But I was able to go to your house.”

“That was unusual. I still can’t figure out how all that happened. Anyway, you weren’t dead.”

Alum stroked his chin. “True. Still, Prudence, I can’t help worrying about you. It might not be safe to go back to the victim’s house. The police have no clues as yet. The murderer could be anyone, and might think you know something if he or she sees you there.”

I shrugged. “That’s what I’m being paid for.”

An uncomfortable silence descended over the table, and it was a few moments before Alum spoke. “So there’s no hope of you continuing with your shows?”

I shook my head. “None whatsoever. I can’t make a living out of it any more. My only saleable skill is as a clairvoyant medium. I do have a mortgage, you know. I thought you were supportive of me working for the police. Have you changed your mind?”

Alum looked conflicted. “Err, no. No, I haven’t. I’m just worried about you. I wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger. I hadn’t realized that the spirits stayed at crime scenes.”

I hurried to reassure him. “No, not always. They often go to places that they liked, places they had a connection with. They usually only hang around where they were murdered if that was a familiar place to them.”

“Like Mrs. Cornford’s home?” His expression was solemn.

I nodded. “Exactly.”

Alum shook his head. “I don’t like it, Prudence. I don’t like it at all.”

The waiter arrived to clear our plates. He must have picked up the tension at the table, as his eyes nervously darted between us, and after handing us the dessert menus, he beat a hasty retreat.

My phone chose that unfortunate moment to ring. I apologized, and reached into my purse to turn it off. “Oh, it’s Detective Brown,” I said in surprise.

Alum sighed. “You had better answer it.”

Larry wasted no time coming to the point. “Prudence, we have results on the poison already. Can you come down to the station?”

“What? Right now?” I asked him.

Alum nodded. “That’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll go with you, and I’ll take you to dinner sometime soon to make up for our lunch being interrupted.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

“What’s not my fault?” Larry asked.

“Sorry, I was speaking to, um…” My voice trailed away. “Never mind, I can be right there.”