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The Eleventh Floor

Page 8

by Shani Struthers


  Chapter Nine

  When Caroline left Marilyn’s room, she still couldn’t face returning to her own – not to sit and mull over what she’d learnt about Marilyn and Leonard, it was too depressing. Originally, she was on her way to the lobby and she decided to reinstate that plan, taking her chances with the elevator again, which this time behaved itself well enough.

  She’d just chosen her seat in the lobby; sitting directly beneath the chandelier, when the hotel doors were pushed open. Another arrival! She had to blink to believe it.

  Standing in the exact spot that she and David had stood, was another man – tall, elegant, a cashmere overcoat adorning his angular frame, and a somewhat playful smile on his face. Unlike her and David, he didn’t look ruffled at all, certainly not as though he’d stepped out of the arms of a storm. His blond hair should be awry, his cheeks flushed, snow clinging to him, instead he looked… perfect, better than the airbrushed models in the magazine at her fingertips – the cut of his close-fitting suit expensive too.

  As he made his way towards the lobby desk, Caroline was mesmerised.

  “Raquel,” he exclaimed. “Lovely to see you again.”

  The girl at reception smiled, a degree or two less bored than before.

  “Hello, Edward! You’ll be wanting your usual room, I presume?”

  “You presume right.” The man almost purred at her before swinging abruptly around to survey the lobby. “We’re busy then,” he added.

  Not particularly, Caroline thought, wondering what he could see that she couldn’t. As his eyes rested on her, she seized her chance.

  “Hello,” she said, jumping to her feet. “You made it then?” Only belatedly did she realise she’d mimicked Raquel. She hadn’t intended to this time, the words had just slipped out.

  The man – his name, Edward, suited him, at least the regality of it – seemed as amused by her as David sometimes was.

  “I did indeed,” he answered, his voice like liquid gold.

  With one hand she gestured towards the hotel doors. “The weather, it’s so awful.”

  All he did was nod. Dammit, she thought, he’s making me work for this.

  “How did you get through?” she continued, desperate to know. “Did you drive?”

  “Drive?” As he repeated the word, he raised an eyebrow. “You can’t drive in this.”

  “But you got here somehow.”

  “That’s right, I did.”

  Turning back, he took the key to his ‘usual’ room, leaving her by degrees irritated and fascinated. Making his way towards the elevator, his back straight, confidence in every stride, Caroline was left to wonder one more thing: was he on the eleventh floor too?

  * * *

  Back in her seat, flicking through the pages of a magazine, barely able to concentrate for thinking about Edward, the time passed quickly enough, despite Caroline fearing that it would drag. Dinner was in an hour and so she returned to her room to change her clothes, the elevator once again working perfectly. Reaching the eleventh floor, she walked past Elspeth’s room, and past Marilyn’s, Edward still on her mind: a mysterious man, who’d appeared just as mysteriously, who’d materialised. Perhaps he’d straightened himself out just inside the hotel doors, before climbing the handful of steps to where he could be seen properly. But why go to such trouble? And he said he hadn’t driven to The Egress – she’d made a point of asking him. Well, he couldn’t have bloody well walked! No one could in such weather, and where would he have walked from anyway? There was nothing around here. He was teasing her, having a little joke. Hence his playful smile. Mischievous, that’s what he was. And interesting. She couldn’t deny it. Perhaps he owned some incredible four by four, or he drove a snowplow. That idea tickled her – someone dressed like Edward did not drive a snowplow.

  A burst of laughter matched her own and she turned to the side. Where had it come from? Elspeth’s room again? She’d passed it, though. She was between 1104 and her room. She backtracked and lingered outside 1104. There was movement, or at least a sense of it. In fact, the entire floor seemed livelier than before. As Edward’s arrival had woken Raquel up a bit, so the eleventh floor had followed suit. There were more sounds, not just from 1104 but also in the air, the low murmur of two people conversing, another burst of laughter, canned this time, from a radio show probably or the TV. Her eyes travelling downwards, strips of light were evident beneath doors. Like Edward, where had everyone come from? Sitting in the lobby, she’d have noticed people arriving, and before that on the eleventh floor, this floor, in Marilyn’s room – she’d have heard them. Surely.

  But they can’t get through, even Edward admitted that. You can’t drive in this.

  A pain shot across her forehead. She felt nauseous, dizzy even, had to lean against the wall for support. Just as quickly, the feelings subsided. In truth, she forced them to subside. Perhaps it was something to do with the bang she’d received when she’d crashed the car, some sort of delayed reaction. Whatever it was, she couldn’t afford to get sick. She had to make the best of her time here; pray that the weather would change soon enough and that she’d be on the road again. As for where all the people had come from, they must have been here already, closed doors concealing them. Certainly, last night, there’d been more people at dinner than she’d anticipated. Dinner… she’d see David again, a whole host of characters, with tall, regal Edward amongst them no doubt.

  * * *

  As she entered the ballroom, dressed in slim-fitting black jeans, a red blouse and ankle boots, attire she felt more comfortable in, she spotted David. He was sitting at the table they’d occupied for both dinner and breakfast.

  “That territorial streak of yours really is very well defined,” she said upon reaching him.

  He looked confused but only for a moment. “Honey, this is our table, where we first got to know each other. That has value, you know, sentimental value.”

  If he noticed how she coloured at his words, he gave no sign. Once seated, a waiter took the order for their wine; white this time, at her request.

  “Gotta ring the changes somehow,” she jested.

  “If you insist.” His reply was equally as good-humoured.

  Picking up her menu, she pulled a face. “This formality is all very nice, but you know what I’d kill for right now?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Pizza.”

  “Pizza?” His eyes roamed over the menu. “Nope, not available. You can have Oysters Rockefeller, shrimp by the dozen, clams, salmon and catfish, steak done however you want it, and even a gourmet salad with cranberry vinaigrette, but it’s no deal on the pizza.”

  “Damn! And no chance of getting a delivery?” After all if Edward had got through…

  “Sweetheart, if a delivery man can battle his way here in this, he’s a better man than I.”

  “Just think though, if he did manage it, we could hitch a ride back with him.”

  “Yep, straight into the heart of civilisation.” He nudged her. “Hey, look, here come the troopers.”

  Elspeth had entered the room – a shrunken Elspeth, no longer as giggly, or as frenetic as before, her face, without make-up, as pale as her milky eyes. Alongside her was Marilyn, one hand continually patting Elspeth’s arm in a reassuring manner.

  John Cole was next, the sight of his bowed head tugging at Caroline’s heartstrings. She knew something of Marilyn’s background; she would like to know something of his too, primarily what had caused that air of dejection that hung around him?

  She leaned into David. “Should we invite John over?”

  John, however, had already sat down, again at the table he’d chosen the night before, as much a creature of habit as any of them.

  David looked concerned too. “Why don’t we ask him to join us for coffee afterwards instead?”

  “Good idea,” Caroline agreed, catching David’s intimation that he might be happy in his own company, as she sometimes was.

  Althea was next, her assistan
t in tow, the order of people almost exactly the same as before. But where was Tallula, the mysterious teenager, and Edward? Where was he?

  No sooner had she thought of Edward than once again he appeared – she half expected a puff of smoke to accompany him. He was standing at the entrance to the ballroom, dressed in another suit, charcoal grey this time as opposed to the navy of earlier, and a white shirt left open at the collar. His hair was again immaculate, a boyish fringe swept to one side, that smile of his even more mischievous as he gazed ahead.

  She found it so hard to take her eyes off him, to explain to David who he was. Not that he was asking – he was staring at Edward too. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if all heads had turned his way. There was something about him…

  Tallula entered, almost a match for Edward in height, certainly as slim, and came to a halt beside him. Caroline frowned. Did they know each other? How come? Immediately she checked herself. So what if they did? Why be surprised about it?

  The pair lingered, as if realising that they were objects of scrutiny and revelling in it, standing perfectly still, like works of art in a museum, existing solely to be admired.

  It was Althea who broke the silence with a simple cough, effectively snapping Caroline out of the reverie she’d fallen into.

  “David, that’s Edward. I met him in the lobby earlier, he’s a new arrival.”

  She’d whispered the words as if the information was confidential somehow, causing David to whisper back. “A new arrival? How’d he get through?”

  “I don’t know. I did ask, but he wouldn’t say. Oh my goodness, he’s coming over!”

  And he was, Tallula by now hanging onto his arm, every now and then glancing at him with nothing less than adoration on her face. Caroline gulped. Was he going to join them? Did she mind? Maybe not him, but Tallula she wasn’t so sure about.

  It wasn’t their table he stopped at first, it was Elspeth’s and Marilyn’s. He exchanged a few words and a smile with them, Marilyn more forthcoming than Elspeth. Elspeth kept her head lowered, as if overcome with shyness. After them, it was John’s turn. He looked uncomfortable that they should approach him, reaching for his glass of water and gulping as if somehow it fortified him. Like Elspeth, he answered whatever it was they were asking but kept his head lowered the entire time, his eyes, for the most part, elsewhere. Leaving him to it, they stopped at several other tables before finally reaching Caroline and David.

  “Ah,” Edward drawled, focussing entirely on Caroline. “We meet again.”

  Stooping slightly, he held out his hand. Hesitating for only a second, she held out hers too and he took it. The touch of his skin was like an electrical bolt, almost stopping her from breathing. He noticed, his smile becoming less mischievous and more seductive.

  Taking it one step further, he lifted her hand to his mouth, and pressed his lips against it. “Sweet Caroline,” he murmured, caressing each word, in turn making her wonder what it would be like to be caressed by him. He hadn’t done this to any other female guest, just her – singling her out, favouring her. Immediately guilt set in that she should be enjoying such attention and she glanced sideways at David. Although his expression was neutral, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

  Swiftly Caroline withdrew her hand. What Edward had said – those words, that term of endearment – it was so familiar to her. And then she realised. “You know my name!”

  “I made it my business to find out.”

  Beside her David rose to his feet. “My name’s David. David Mason.”

  Caroline flinched. Was she imagining it or was there a hint of a challenge in David’s introduction? The fact that he’d stood up only served to reinforce that notion.

  “Good evening, David, I’m—”

  “Edward, yes I know.”

  David’s neutrality had slipped; he was definitely on the defence, but why? Was he the jealous type and, if so, what was he jealous of? That Edward had kissed her hand? Irritation flared. She was not David’s date. They were merely two people thrown together by circumstance. She wouldn’t deny he was attractive, certainly his smile – so different to Edward’s – his easy-going manner, and in his company she’d laughed – a lot – but his territorial streak extending to include her, especially so soon, was something that jarred rather than flattered her.

  The two men were shaking hands but once again a frisson had marred the otherwise easy ambience. Glancing at Tallula, Caroline noticed her eyes darting between Edward and David, as if she was expecting something – the frisson to develop into an uproar?

  Having had enough of the situation, Caroline stood too and gestured to the two empty chairs beside them. “Why don’t you join us?” It wasn’t strictly what she wanted, but it was the polite thing to do and it might put an end to any more presumptions from David.

  “We’d be—” Edward begun but his words died out as overhead the lights began to flicker, not just once or twice but several times, at one point plunging them into complete darkness, albeit for only a moment or two. The lights regaining their composure, Edward turned from Caroline and David and looked straight at Althea, whose gaze was just as cool. “Oh dear,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “that big old storm’s playing havoc.”

  Again, darkness descended and Caroline gasped at the suddenness of it. Her hand sought David’s, grateful when his fingers folded around hers without the slightest hesitation. There’d be light again soon, all they had to was wait…

  Laughter broke the silence. Not only that but clapping, a manic clapping.

  “What the hell?”

  It was David, trying to work out who was responsible as frantically as she was.

  Able to see again, she spotted Elspeth sitting beside Marilyn, laughing and clapping, just as a child might, one that was watching a spectacular firework display, or a thrilling circus show. Any minute now, Caroline expected her to whoop and cheer.

  Edward and Tallula started laughing too but not with Elspeth, at her.

  “Oh, this is priceless, absolutely priceless,” said Edward, addressing Tallula.

  “The woman’s mad,” replied Tallula, her voice nothing less than scathing.

  Incensed, it was Caroline who jumped to her feet, “Now hang on a minute…” she began, intending to rein in their behaviour, but Elspeth again drew their attention.

  “More, more, I want more!” she was shouting.

  What was wrong with her? Why was she acting in such a bizarre manner? Deciding to ignore Edward and Tallula, Caroline hurried forward, only briefly noticing that David was keeping up with her. The closer she drew, the more obvious it was. Elspeth was drunk – her eyes rolling in her head, unable to focus at all. Had she spent all day drinking? She must have done to get into this state. Her skin, not only pale, was haggard – her age more evident. She had to be in her forties, this woman who was acting like a child.

  “Elspeth?” Caroline said, but Marilyn shook her head. She was the one who wanted to calm her down again, who wanted to act the surrogate mother. Caroline looked at David for confirmation of what to do, he shook his head slightly, the answer clear: let it be, and then John caught her attention – his head bent, he was chewing furiously at his nails, tearing at them almost, his body rocking to and fro, a slight movement, but no less disturbing because of it. Did he need comforting too?

  “Enough!”

  The word, when it rang out, silenced them all. Even Edward and Tallula.

  Caroline spun around. Who had shouted, and in such an authoritative manner? Was it Althea, that frail old lady, that ancient lady? It was. She was standing upright, short in stature and having to hold onto the table in front of her for support, but nonetheless impressive, a core of strength running through her that was steel-like. Caroline was awe-struck, so was David. Glancing at Edward, his face looked pinched, but angry too. There was definitely anger bubbling away beneath that flawless surface of his.

  “Dinner is a sacred ritual at The Egress,” Althea continued, “and it will be ob
served.”

  Although bemused by her words, Caroline understood what she was saying. Dinner was important; it gave structure to the day, a chance for guests to socialise, to refuel.

  “Those who only wish to make a nuisance of themselves, please leave.”

  She was not addressing Elspeth, only Edward, who in turn was struggling to keep his face passive, doing his utmost to prevent not a smile but a grimace from twisting his features. By his side, Tallula had grown sulky, glancing again at Edward, nudging him, as though daring him to contest her. Caroline held her breath. Would he?

  In the moments that followed she had to admit to being fascinated again. Did Althea and Edward know each other too? Certainly there seemed to be some kind of tension between them, one that had a depth to it, a history. It was simply too deep to be something only recently spawned. She didn’t know Edward’s age. As with Elspeth, she found it hard to guess at – he could be anywhere in his thirties or forties. That made him unlikely to be her son, more like a grandson or a great nephew. Whatever he was, there was a bond between them, a connection, shared qualities, that same air of regality in particular, of ownership. That was it! They owned this place, if not on paper, in attitude.

  “Edward, what are you going to do?” There was acid in Althea’s voice as she posed the question.

  “I’m going to dine, of course,” Edward took his time to reply, a smile on his face that had no hope of reaching his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how hungry I am.”

  Grabbing hold of Tallula, they made their way to the table farthest from the old woman.

  Chapter Ten

  Despite what had happened at the start of dinner, the rest of the evening continued without incident. As soon as Althea had eaten she left the ballroom, Caroline noticing Edward’s eyes trained on her as she did so, although she bestowed on him not another glance. Even Elspeth had simmered down, if not behaving normally, at least there were no more outbursts. Caroline and David continued to talk, Caroline keeping the conversation carefully neutral. She liked him, very much, but she was leaving this hotel, this country, as soon as she was able to. There was no point in giving him the impression she was up for anything other than friendship. Certainly she was not in the market for a one-night stand. That wasn’t her style. Before her thoughts could run on, she checked herself. Perhaps it wasn’t his style either. His earlier aggression towards Edward may have surprised her, but she could have jumped to the wrong conclusion about the source of it. It might have nothing to do with her at all.

 

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