‘No, no, no, of course not!’
That’s Pandora, in the kitchen. Bella frowns, heading in that direction, wondering who’s there with her.
‘What a load of codswallop!’
She can’t have Pandora talking to the guests that way – or, for that matter, to Max, who will want to know what codswallop means. Bella has never heard the phrase before, but she can guess.
Before she can intervene, uproarious laughter erupts across the threshold.
Pandora, again. Only Pandora.
‘Winston, you naughty thing. You know I never said that.’
Ah, so she isn’t conversing with Max or one of the guests after all. It’s merely the late prime minister of England, who drops in frequently, according to Pandora.
Leaving her to her invisible visitor, Bella detours to the breakfast room.
Formerly an enclosed side porch, it’s a cheerful nook with white beadboard trim and three walls of windows, all of which are propped open. Still, the room feels like a greenhouse.
Even if she had the time to bake her usual fresh scones or quiche for her guests this morning, the weather is much too warm for Bella to heat up the oven. And she’s running low on fresh fruit after her weekend travels, so there will be no melon wedges or fresh berries.
But there’s a basket of apples and bananas on the breakfast bar, and the cabinets and mini-fridge beneath are well stocked with alternatives for days like today.
She sets out individually wrapped store-bought pastries, mini cereal boxes, oatmeal packets, and protein bars. Guests can help themselves to milk, juice and yogurt, and can make their own hot beverages using the countertop Keurig machine. She replenishes the pod selection along with coffee condiments, utensils, and napkins, then looks around to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything.
The café tables are covered in blue and white gingham, with fading wildflowers in ball jars as centerpieces. Time to replace them with fresh-cut bouquets from the garden, another task for today’s To-Do list, already extended to include puppy training and tea with Pandora Feeney.
She returns to the kitchen. Five minutes. That’s it. That’s all the time she can afford to waste on sitting around … chin-wagging. She’d prefer to avoid it altogether, but she does need to set Pandora straight about what happened – or rather, what didn’t happen – with Drew last night.
She finds Pandora sipping her tea at the table.
‘Isabella, where have you been?’
‘I had to get the breakfast room ready for – is that my robe?’
Pandora looks behind her, as if expecting to find a disembodied garment floating in midair – which, Lily Dale being Lily Dale, might not be entirely implausible, but still.
Then she glances down at herself, and back up at Bella. ‘Do you mean this dressing gown?’
‘Yes.’
‘I found it in the laundry room in the basket waiting to be folded, so naturally, I assumed it was meant for guests.’
‘Naturally? It’s mine!’
And it wasn’t clean clothing; it was from her suitcase.
Taking some satisfaction in that, she says, ‘We don’t have guest robes, Pandora.’
‘No? They’d be a nice touch, don’t you think?’
‘This isn’t a five-star resort,’ Bella says, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee. ‘There’s no room in the budget for fancy extras.’
‘Ah, yes, your Mr Everard is a regular Ebenezer Scrooge, isn’t he.’
Pandora is referring to Grant Everard, Valley View’s absentee owner. As a globe-trotting venture capitalist, he’d initially had no interest in even keeping the rundown guesthouse he’d inherited from his Aunt Leona.
Fortunately – for Bella, anyway – selling real estate in Lily Dale isn’t a straightforward proposition. All the land here is owned by the Assembly, and only members of the Spiritualist church are permitted to obtain property leaseholds on homes.
So Grant would have had to sell Valley View to a spiritualist who happened to be in the market for an oversized fixer-upper. And of course, the buyer would have to be either a local resident for whom money is no object, or an outsider looking to relocate to Western New York’s snowbelt.
Bella had suggested that Grant invest in the guesthouse instead, convinced that it could become profitable in the off-season with some sprucing up and effective marketing.
‘Have at it and send me the bills,’ he said amiably. ‘We’ll see how it goes.’
That had been nearly a year ago. She’s since become handy with a paintbrush, a caulk gun, and even a wet saw, and is on a first-name basis with the local electrician and plumber. Grant seems content to let her handle pretty much everything, while he oversees it from a distance – often, the opposite side of the world.
Last week, he’d called her from the Tibetan Plateau after she’d sent him the estimates to replace the roof and address the water damage. The entire job is going to be complicated, time-consuming and expensive. Valley View’s steep mansard slate roof is intricately patterned and there are dormers, gables and turrets. The third-floor work will involve not just structural and cosmetic repairs, but mold remediation.
Grant had been taken aback by the costs.
‘I can try to get more estimates,’ Bella had said, ‘but not everyone deals with historical homes on this scale.’
‘No, it’s OK. I’ll stop in Lily Dale to discuss it with you next week on my way from here to Newfoundland.’
‘Newfoundland, Pennsylvania? Near Scranton?’
‘Newfoundland, Canada,’ he’d said with a chuckle. ‘Near … well, not much of anything. Which is why I like it.’
You’d think a guy who enjoys spending so much time in the middle of nowhere might be more interested in visiting the Dale, but he rarely does. When he shows up, it’s usually at an inopportune time, like when Bella is dealing with a litter of newborn kittens, or when there’s a murderer under this roof, or …
A canine quartet in the mudroom?
‘When does Mr Everard arrive for his Lily Dale holiday, Isabella?’
‘He wasn’t sure exactly,’ she tells Pandora, sitting in the chair opposite her. ‘Any day now, I think, but it isn’t a holiday. It’s just for one night.’
‘Ah, so he’s just coming to check up on you, is he?’
‘No, we need to discuss some repairs that need to be made.’
‘That can’t be done over the phone?’
‘He’s en route to Newfoundland from Tibet, and this is on the way.’
‘Is that what he told you? That it’s on the way?’
Well, now it sounds lame even to Bella’s own ears.
‘Grant doesn’t come sniffing around here checking up on me, Pandora. He trusts me.’
‘But do you trust him?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Change is in the air here at Valley View, Isabella.’
Bella sets down her mug and levels a look at Pandora. ‘What kind of change?’
‘It’s hard to say. I’m merely passing the information to you as I receive it.’
‘You’re receiving it right now? From whom? Winston Churchill? Because I don’t think he—’
‘Of course not! I received the information from my guides, early this morning – the very moment I set foot in this house.’
Uninvited, nosing around, and borrowing without asking, Bella wants to remind her, but refrains. For all her infuriating meddling, Pandora is the one person in the Dale who has consistently told Bella things she couldn’t have uncovered with all the snooping in the world.
She’d somehow picked up on Sam’s nickname for her, ‘Bella Blue’, and had mentioned the phrase ‘sushi sky’, which had been his unique and poetic description of the sunset one memorable romantic night.
Those details are far more specific than the message Odelia had offered—other than Kevin Bacon, anyway.
It might make sense if Sam was merely confirming that he’d been at his mother’s wedding. The connection to Footloose could have been his way of validating his presence with a detail Odelia couldn’t have otherwise known.
Unless …
Well, Bella had mentioned it to Roxy yesterday. Not Kevin Bacon himself, but the music from his movie. What if Roxy had mentioned it to Odelia, and Odelia was using it to …
To what? Fool you into thinking she was talking to Sam?
No. No way.
Bella might be skeptical about a lot of what goes on around the Dale, but that doesn’t mean she suspects that her friend Odelia – or any of the mediums here – are manipulative frauds. They do what they do – what they claim to do, or rather, what they’re convinced they’re doing – out of a genuine desire to help people.
Pandora included.
Bella asks her exactly what happened this morning when she walked into the guesthouse.
‘Spirit touched in to say that change is in the air.’
Touched in. The mediums often phrase it that way, causing Bella to imagine a ghostly figure tapping someone on the shoulder – something Pandora has said Nadine is prone to doing. That has yet to happen to Bella, thank goodness.
‘At first,’ Pandora goes on, ‘I thought it might be because you and Drew Bailey have embarked on a serious relationship that might one day lead you to marry him and leave Valley V—’
‘That’s crazy! First of all, Drew and I aren’t getting married, but even if we were getting married – which we are not! – I’d never leave Valley View.’
‘Not even for love, luv?’
Seeing the gleam in Pandora’s eye, she says, ‘Not for anything. This is my home.’
‘I once felt the same way about it, but things have a way of changing, don’t they?’
‘What kind of things?’
‘Feelings … circumstances … desires. But I believe when Spirit indicated that change was coming to Valley View, it was in reference to something rather less … personal.’
‘Like what?’
‘I’m not quite sure.’ She pushes back her chair. ‘I’ll go back to Cotswold Corner to meditate and come round for tea later to let you know what I’ve discovered.’
‘Wait, Pandora … Spirit didn’t give you anything about … um … Your guides didn’t mention Sam?’
‘No, luv.’ Pandora flashes a rare smile that isn’t sly, self-satisfied, or anything other than benevolent.
‘But you heard what Odelia said?’
‘I did.’
‘And you …’ Bella pauses, about to ask if Pandora believes the message was legitimate.
No. The last thing she wants to do is share even a hint of doubt in Odelia’s abilities with her longtime nemesis.
Instead, she asks, ‘You don’t know what the message means? About Kevin Bacon?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t …’ Pandora gets to her feet.
‘You’re afraid you don’t what?’
After the slightest hesitation, Pandora tells her, ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what it means.’
‘That’s not what you said, though. That wasn’t a complete sentence. You were about to go on, but you changed your mind.’
‘You’re a mind reader now, are you?’
‘Around here, isn’t everyone?’
‘Very well. I was going to say that I don’t get the sense that the message had to do with Kevin Bacon, the actor.’
‘There’s another Kevin Bacon?’
‘Perhaps. Or perhaps our friend Odelia misinterpreted Spirit. It’s not for me to say, now, is it?’
‘You just did.’
‘Did I?’
‘You did.’
‘Right. Cheers, then,’ she adds with a wave, and heads for the door, leaving her teacup on the table.
‘Pandora! My robe!’
‘I’ll bring it round later. We can’t parade about the Dale stark naked, can we?’
With that, she’s gone.
The next few hours pass in a familiar flurry. Bella gets busy crossing things off her To-Do list, though every time she completes a task, she finds herself adding at least one more that needs to be accomplished today. Between chores, she pops in and out of the breakfast room to greet her guests as they help themselves to food and beverages.
Most are newcomers who checked in during Bella’s absence this weekend. Only octogenarian sisters Ruby and Opal St Clair are regulars, having made the trip from Ohio twice this season already.
No one lingers long over breakfast, eager to get on with their morning activities. Some are visiting local landmarks.
Prominent among them are the Fairy Trail, a woodland spot said to be populated by miniature winged creatures, and Inspiration Stump, the Dale’s most hallowed ground. Tucked away in the Leolyn Wood, it is the concrete-encased remains of an ancient tree purportedly charged with potent spirit energy. Daily Stump Readings are held during the summer season, with visitors gathered on benches facing a lineup of mediums who provide messages for a lucky few.
In addition to sightseeing, today’s calendar offers a number of scheduled events, including workshops on time travel, poltergeists, numerology, and recurring dreams, about which the St Clair sisters are particularly excited.
‘We’re hoping to uncover the meaning behind an unusual dream,’ Opal says. ‘Aren’t we, Ruby?’
‘Yes, a most unusual dream.’
Hester Garretson, an elderly solo traveler who’s become fast friends with the sisters, looks up from her danish. ‘What is it about?’
‘An enormous white whale swoops out of a beautiful blue sky and swallows us whole.’
‘Do you mean the sea?’ Bella asks.
Opal tilts her head. ‘Do I see what, dear?’
‘She really can’t,’ Ruby tells Bella, opening a packet of salt. ‘Not a thing. Blind as a bat, poor dear.’ She stirs the salt into her coffee, takes a sip, and makes a face. ‘I’m not one to complain, but this new coffee machine really isn’t up to par.’
‘I’ll get you a fresh cup.’
‘Thank you, Bella. I take it black, with one sugar.’
‘One sugar. No milk. Got it.’
‘Milk? Goodness, no. I’m lactose intolerant.’
Ah, yes, Bella is well aware of that fact, which had played an unlikely role in helping her solve a mystery earlier this summer. She tosses the salt-tainted beverage into the garbage and sets the machine to brew another as the sisters chatter on about the recurring dream.
‘I’m not quite certain it was a whale,’ Ruby says. ‘It looked more like a dolphin. Or perhaps a shark.’
‘But it wasn’t in the ocean?’ Bella can’t help asking, then wishes she hadn’t.
The sisters exchange a glance.
‘Did you have a dream about the ocean, dear?’ Opal asks. ‘That’s nice.’
‘No, I meant your dream – or was it Ruby’s?’
‘It was both of us.’
‘You had the same exact dream? More than once?’
‘They are identical twins,’ Hester tells Bella, as if that’s a logical explanation.
‘Oh, we aren’t twins,’ Ruby says.
‘Nor identical,’ Opal says.
Hester frowns, looking at Bella and then back at the sisters, mirror images of each other from their snow-white topknots to their black orthopedic sandals.
‘But I can’t tell you apart,’ Hester protests.
‘Neither could Papa.’
‘Sometimes, neither can we, isn’t that right, Opal?’
‘Oh, it is,’ Opal agrees.
‘And you had the same exact recurring dream?’ Hester asks. ‘That’s extraordinary.’
‘Is it?’ Opal asks, and shrugs. ‘Most things are, though, aren’t they?’
‘Certainly here in the Dale,’ Ruby agrees, as Bella sets the new cup of coffee in front of her, along with sugar, rather than salt.
The packets are both white rectangles, but that’s where the similarity ends – for Bella, anyway, though she can see why an elderly woman with failing eyesight might mistake one for the other.
As for the sisters, she’d thought they were interchangeable until recently. Now she can discern that Ruby’s front tooth is slightly crooked, and that Opal has a faint scar on her right index finger. But if Ruby’s mouth is closed, or Opal’s hand isn’t in view, they’re virtually indistinguishable.
Researchers have concluded that most people have at least one bona fide lookalike somewhere in the world.
It makes perfect sense that Opal and Ruby would be each other’s. They may not be twins, but plenty of siblings share a striking family resemblance.
As for Sam …
Yes, Bella had concluded earlier that she and Max had seen a man who looked like him. Exactly like him – cowlick, brown eyes, glasses and all. A stranger.
One who happened to be in Chicago at precisely the right place and time?
A stranger to whom they – Bella and Max – were apparently not strangers?
The way he was staring at them, wearing an intense, wistful expression …
No matter how Bella tries to reason her way around it, she can’t get around one logic-defying detail.
He knew us, just like we knew him.