‘Oh, right, you mean—’
‘Can you toast this, Noah?’ interrupted Midge, holding out the offending cake for Noah to consider.
‘Well... no, the chocolate would melt all over the insides of the toaster... and I’m not even sure how it would fit...’
‘Then clearly it is not a muffin,’ replied Midge with satisfaction.
‘It’s bloody lovely, mind,’ said Harold, wiping his mouth.
‘Not the point.’ She decided to change the subject; Noah looked rather dejected. ‘Where are the doctor and Gloria?’ asked Midge, biting into her non-muffin.
‘The doctor is getting fresh snow for Rendell’s... for Rendell, and Gloria is sleeping,’ said Noah.
‘I’ll go give him a hand,’ said Harold, before exiting through the back door.
‘Did you make this scone too?’ she asked, pointing to one in the baking tin.
Noah nodded, smiling shyly. ‘Yeah, Harold’s already had most of them.’
The scone looked lonely on its own, so she thought it only fair to pick it up and bite into it, her mouth watering at the lightness and flavour of the mixture. She added a dollop of cream (Bridie would never normally allow her to have cream and butter at home) and then a generous smear of the remaining strawberry jam. Midge had heard of people who put the jam on before the cream but concluded these were probably the same ones who enjoyed adult-themed Tupperware parties and indoor saunas.
A thought occurred to Midge. ‘Noah, would it be possible to see the journal you have been using for your podcast?’
Noah nodded, his eyes lighting up at her request. ‘I’ll go fetch it now,’ he replied, and scurried off quickly. She soon heard footsteps above her.
Midge was just settling down to another round of cake when a shout from the floor above stopped her.
Grabbing her cane, she headed into the hallway and upstairs in the direction of the noise, which appeared to be coming from Noah’s room. On arrival, she was surprised to find the bedroom door open and moans coming from inside.
‘Noah?’ she asked.
In the partial darkness, her eye was drawn to a small movement on the floor in front of her – a body was lying on the ground, groaning. She fumbled for the light switch and just as she did so, a figure detached from the doorway beside her, slamming her on to the ground before running off down the corridor.
Despite the pain shooting through her knee, she pulled herself up to claw at the switch, flooding the room with light. Noah was spreadeagled on the bedroom floor, a reddening bump on his forehead.
‘Noah!’ she shouted. ‘Help! Someone help!’
She leaned over and gently shook him, until Rona and Dr Mortimer appeared in the doorway. ‘Jesus Christ!’ cried Rona, leaning against the doorframe to rest her ankle. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘There was someone in the room,’ said Midge as Noah started to come round. ‘I think he disturbed them.’
‘But that’s impossible,’ said Dr Mortimer, wiping something from his jumper. ‘I didn’t see anyone.’
‘Urghhh, what happened?’ Noah asked, groggily holding his head. ‘Ouch.’
‘Don’t prod it,’ said the doctor. He held three fingers up to Noah’s face. ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’
‘Three,’ winced Noah.
‘Someone was in your room,’ said Midge.
‘It was the White Lady,’ Noah said. ‘I’m sure of it. I came back to get my recording stuff and the journal for you to look at... Oh no...’ His eyes suddenly flew open in panic. ‘Oh my God, my camera...’ He pushed the others away and staggered up and over to his table. ‘It’s been telekinesisized!’
‘What?’ said the doctor.
‘It’s gone!’
Chapter36
