Since Ben and Joss Beckett took over The Fair Maid and Falcon, they have had to deal with ghosts, gangsters and well-dodgy goings-on. Despite that they have their own family of twin daughters and dogs, and a fabulous ‘found family’ of friends.
I took a reviving belt just as Ben reached us. He sat beside me and wrapped a warm arm around me.
My companion looked at us in what appeared to be genuine distress.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Beckett, I should have been more tactful.”
“Than what?” Ben’s voice was dangerously even.
“It ain’t his fault, Ben. I’ve just found out what we’re going to discover on our land.”
“What?”
And.
“Going to discover?”
The two men spoke together. Of course I answered Ben first.
“The body of a pregnant woman, murdered some forty years ago.”
I turned my eyes to Seanmóir.
“We have a resident ghost, who tells us that it is time for that which has been hidden to reveal itself.”
Our visitor looked sourly sceptical, but as he opened his mouth to pour scorn on me, Esme revealed her presence with a snatch of plaintive song before speaking in my ear. ‘He believes in me now.’ She giggled and stepped back.
I handed him back his brandy and he downed what was left before staring at me through haunted eyes.
“How do you stand a presence from beyond the grave around you? I’d never sleep.”
“She’s here. And she is who she is. And I believe it comforts her to speak to me.”
He sort of shrunk into himself though he managed a sarcastic half grin.
“Are you telling me you find it simple to do the job of mother church and all her saints,” he snarled.
“Oh, it’s simple enough if you’ve a clear conscience.”
He took that like a blow and Ben shook his head.
“Joss. Please.”
“Sorry. But he had that coming.”
“He did indeed. However.”
I felt Esme very close again and she started to sing something in a language I didn’t understand. Seanmóir slumped in his seat and I thought he was about to faint.
“Esme,” I said sharply, “stop that.”
She stopped singing.
“Óró sé do bheatha abhaile.” One of the younger guys by the bar came over bearing another brandy which he put down in front of his boss. “Here Da, drink this.”He looked at me. “Our grandmother used to sing that.”
“I’m sorry, it didn’t come from me.”
“No. It’s his own fault. He disrespected a ghost. We’d a bad experience when our aunt fell in with a false clairvoyant. Since then he’s set his face against anything that smacks of the supernatural. And he’s not learned to hide his contempt.”
“We found Esme’s abused and drowned remains, among others, when we investigated some strange goings on before we bought the pub. The other ghosts have more or less moved on, but Esme adopted my wife as a sort of surrogate mother.” Ben explained gently.
To my surprise the young man took my hand and almost bowed over it. “You’ve a strong spirit Mrs Bennett, and I’m sure my father will see that.”
His father had straightened up and managed to return to his normal urbanity.
“That’s enough, now, boy. I’m fine and I owe Mrs Beckett an apology.”
His son went back to the bar where a fresh coffee awaited him.
“I’m sorry Mrs Beckett. I was a long way out of line there.”
“And Esme slapped you right where it hurts,” I smiled my understanding. “If it’s any comfort to you she doesn’t like clairvoyants any more than you do.”
His smile grew more natural. “Strangely enough. It is.”
I drew serenity around me like a blanket. “Tell me what you want from us.”
“We don’t want anything, though we would ask a favour.”
“What sort of a favour?”
He opened his mouth to speak as the pub door crashed open allowing about a dozen men armed with pickaxe handles and sawn-off shotguns to boil into the room.
“You’ve two minutes to clear the place before we start shooting.” The front runner shouted. Which would have been impressive had not one of the Brown boys currently busy bussing tables put down the tray he was carrying and felled him with a kick to the gonads. What with that, and a fair amount of scientific persuasion from our security detail and the visiting hard boys, the whole thing was over almost before it begun.
Ben stood up and grinned his most engaging grin.
“Security exercise.”
One of our regulars looked up from his dominoes. “Oh aye,” he remarked, before spitting very accurately into the face of one of the shotgun carriers. “It’d be a hem do if’n he was to try and shoot that thing. It’d blow his fule arm off. Even a bloody eejit oughter know you don’t cut a shotgun down so short and fire the darned thing.”
I looked at Ben, who shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”
“The blast would probably spread sideways immediately and cause the most damage to the shooter and anyone standing beside him. Could even blow his fool arm off.” Seanmóir sounded drily amused. “You might have the odd poacher among your clientele.”
“Retired,” the dominoes player snapped, “but I’d still back myself to creep up on you in any dark night.”
I found myself chuckling and the better for it. Seanmóir Smiled me a nice smile.
“Will you permit me to deal with this offal?”
I looked at Ben who shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ll give Mark a courtesy call.”
“Good idea.”
A quick call having established that Mark had absolutely no objection to delivering our problem into the warm embrace of Seanmóir‘s family there was nothing to do except await their transportation. A coach with darkened windows turned up swiftly and bore away two dozen very frightened men. Twelve from the pub, six from the ice cream parlour, and six from the house if you’ve been counting. I suppose I should have been concerned about their fate but in all honesty I was so fed up with people turning up intent on causing grief to me and mine that I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Seanmóir took my hand and bent over it in a courtly fashion.
“We’ll bid you farewell Mrs Beckett, and I’ll make it my business to see you are not disturbed by any more rude incursions.”
I must have looked as sceptical as I felt, because he raised his eyebrows.
I lifted a shoulder. “You aren’t the first to promise that. So far to no avail.”
His smile was something different altogether, and, although I knew he posed no danger to me, I felt an icy finger crawl up my spine.
“Precisely.” He said and his voice was completely uninflected. “It wasn’t me doing the promising before. Now it is. You will have no more trouble. Though I may be tempted to return for a meal when I’m in the district. Speaking of which…”
He reached for his wallet but I forestalled him with an upraised hand.
“If you can really stop assorted idiots from attacking my family and friends, then please accept the meal as a small token of my gratitude.”
He bowed again. Taking a small square of pasteboard from his wallet he passed it to me.
“Would you be kind enough to telephone me should that which is hidden indeed reveal itself?”
“I will. But I’ll also be telling the police.”
“Understood and appreciated.”
Then they were gone, leaving me feeling like a worn out dishrag.
“Sheesh Benny. That guy gives me the heebies.”
“Me too. But at least he seems kindly disposed to us.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket and the twins voices demanded that I answer at once. Ben looked apologetic.
“I think that is currently a misplaced joke,” he said.
I mimed a punch before answering. It was Sian.
“The gruesomes are fine. Out in the garden ‘explaining’ the happenings to Bud and Lew. Our handymen were brilliant, and the inept bad guys got nowhere near us. Plus, they managed to have the twins believing it was all an exercise to test our readiness should there ever be trouble. I think I’m in love with them.”
“That’s a relief. And I’m given to understand that was the last of it.”
“I hope so. But I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“You didn’t meet the man who made the promise. He really is an alpha predator.”
“Fortunately he likes our food,” Ben put in.
Sian chuckled and ended the call.
There will be more from Joss, Ben and their friends, courtesy of Jane Jago, next week, or you can catch up with their earlier adventures in Who Put Her In and Who Pulled Her Out.
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