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Mariah
Mariah enjoyed the five-minute drive down country lanes as she made her way to the village. Her phone told her there was a town just as close, but Mariah strongly believed in supporting the local economy. She parked in a bay opposite a cute row of stores and climbed out. She’d spotted a grocer, butchers, fishmongers and a produce shop. There were a few gift shops aimed at tourists, among a couple of others.
Mariah happily headed for the produce shop and grabbed a basket. She loved cooking with fresh ingredients.
Before leaving the inn, she’d vigorously cleaned the fridge and freezer in the apartment, happy they were both tall, upright appliances. Moving around the rows of fruit, veg and salad, Mariah smiled and nodded at people. These would be her neighbours, so it was best to start on a friendly footing.
“Hello, are you new? Are you on holiday?” an older woman inquired.
“I purchased a property near here. I’m Mariah,” she replied, holding out her hand.
“Prudence Waler, my dear. You say you bought a home? I only know of one house in the village for sale.”
“Oh, I’ve just acquired the Black Cat Inn,” Mariah said, smiling, and was shocked when the lady made the sign of the cross.
“My girl, did nobody tell you?” Prudence exclaimed.
“No?” Mariah answered slowly.
“The Black Cat is haunted. Has been for centuries. A gentleman was murdered there. It was all very strange and hush-hush!” Prudence dropped her voice and stepped closer.
“I stayed last night, and nothing happened to me,” Mariah responded.
“We’ve all seen the ghost, my dear, at one time or another. Benedict Norton doesn’t let people stay at the Black Cat and bellows at any intruder,” Prudence replied as two other ladies approached with smiles. They soon faded as Prudence introduced Mariah to them.
“You must leave there. The spirit is capable of great evil. He has chased many away,” Hilary said.
“Indeed, even our children know not to bother the Black Cat,” Edith announced.
“I have witnessed nothing,” Mariah drawled, but Edith’s sharp ears caught her hesitation.
“You’ve heard him!”
“Yeah. I can’t say it’s a ghost. A man called Klaus Anderson approached me before I got into the Black Cat and wanted to buy it,” Mariah replied, and the three women’s faces took on a look of disgust. “I think he’s planted microphones to make me leave. And I won’t. I own that place, not him! And I will not be chased away!”
The women patted her arm and swapped glances.
“Why don’t you finish your purchases, and we’ll go for a nice tea and mid-morning break?” Hilary suggested.
“Oh, I have got a lot to buy. I’ve nothing at all in the inn. I need to completely restock,” Mariah responded.
“Didn’t you pack up your old groceries?” Prudence asked.
“There wasn’t anything to bring,” Mariah replied bitterly.
The women swapped glances again, and Mariah felt they had sussed out more than she’d intended to reveal.
“Well, now. Finish your shopping here, and then we’ll head to the tea shop,” Edith decided. Mariah resigned herself to being bullied by the three older females and nodded. She took another half an hour, nodding hello to other people but not engaging in further conversation. She packed her six bags in the car as the greengrocer’s son brought out a large sack of potatoes and the last two sacks of items.
Giving him a tip, Mariah made her way down to the tearoom, where Edith was waiting outside, waving to her.
“My granddaughter, Rose-Marie, runs this. She does beautiful food,” Edith chortled as she led Mariah inside.
A young lady in her early twenties approached, bent over, and offered Edith a kiss.
“What have I told you about kidnapping tourists?” Rose-Marie smiled gently at Mariah. “Please excuse my nan. She believes everyone needs to eat here.”
“Mariah’s one of us. She just bought the Black Cat,” Edith hissed, and Rose-Marie paled.
