Old-Fashioned, or Another Story With Ghosts

Chapter 9. The night passes and Wilkins enters the manor

***

Margaret was watching her privates packing the remnants of the successful campaign. It was the final step, the finishing touch, and it was to be performed with the same neat perfection. They were slightly behind the schedule, cause Alice, the bride, refused to get out of the bed. It was bad, from one hand, - the party risked missing their flight. From the other hand, it was good. Alice's moaning and cursing gave Margaret time to drag the small bridesmaid Chrissy from the same bed,  the other side from the groom. Chrissy was not moaning but asked if there were more ghosts or acting from Greg and his lord since they had fallen asleep. Margaret assured there was no secret activities and threw her away from the room with the best client-oriented smile.

Then, she poured some water from the jar on the sleeping doves. This duty was specifically written down in the contract. At least, Alice knew her own weaknesses.

Margaret decided to give her a discount for the next wedding.

Her army was ready to leave, and she was about the call the clumsy yet cheap stylist with good communication skills. But an unexpected event occurred just before she touched the green button.

Another army was arriving.

The gate, already wide opened, let in the procession of black vans with the united brand logo on each on them. They stopped resembling a half-circle around the ground before the porch, and the gentleman with the most perfect posture let himself out from the passenger seat of the first van. The gentleman's small half-white beard was groomed with the rare precision. His suit was calling to be named a travel suit from Jeeves and Wooster first book. And his gaze which quickly scanned the premises was as sharp and discreet as Margaret's own gaze.

Thanks God the next party arrival happened not a second earlier. Two generals can't defeat the same place from the enemy.

The bearded gentleman recognised his predecessor's presence, but acknowledged it with the short gaze only.

Margaret examined the bride and groom being loaded in their car and took the place next to the driver retreating to the next battlefield.

The call she was up to was never made.

Greg continued sleeping peacefully in his dusty room. He had woken up three hours ago in the empty master bedroom, rolled from the armchair and run away. Now, he was dreaming of the roses and how to deal with cufflinks when you are undressing someone.

***

James, in his turn, had no dreams at all. Maybe his body was borrowed again by another James to wander somewhere only ghosts knew. This house was filed with spirits, James or no James.

He overslept as well - and was not sure exactly why, just remembered opening his eyes around 6 in the morning, seeing Gregory soundly sleeping in the armchair, - and slumbered away again waking up only around 8. He was not certain he wouldn't sleep forever. But he heard car doors opening and closing outside. Wilkins must have been arrived.

James threw on the sweater and went down, just to let them know he was already here.

The hall was filled with containers and boxes. Somebody was already fixing the front door lock, which indeed was a bit of an issue to open. Wilkins was explaining something to the maids and turned back only when their faces showed surprise.

"Sir?" He raised both brows. "Good morning. Was there a problem with the hotel lodgings?"

"No, not at all, thank you, Wilkins and good morning. Certain events made me change my plan the last minute. I'll go for a run  and return in about an hour. "