The Eleventh Floor

by Shani Struthers

  “I will.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise,” she said.

  Althea stood aside, as did John and Caroline, John looking relieved that the drama was over. As for herself, she couldn’t work out if she was annoyed at being ousted or not. Something else was bugging her too: Althea had said Elspeth would be safe with Marilyn, not feels safe, which is how Marilyn had interpreted it. To her mind there was a difference.

  The elevator doors concealing the trio, she was left with John and Althea, Raquel too, whom Althea took by the arm and led to one side. Caroline couldn’t hear what she was saying to her because she kept her voice low, but Raquel looked defiant again, displeased, although she held her tongue and didn’t answer back. Instead, she took up her usual position behind the lobby desk, Althea continuing onwards to the ballroom. Lunch was being served and, although Caroline wasn’t hungry, it might offer a chance to spend a bit more time with John, to learn why he considered himself a worse man than his father.

  But John was already in retreat.

  “John,” she called, but he didn’t seem to hear her. She raised her voice and tried a second time. “John!” He must have heard that time, but again he gave no response.

  She sighed in defeat.

  He wasn’t ready to confide in her again, she realised.

  Perhaps he’d already said too much.

  Chapter Sixteen

  This was the third night she’d be spending at The Egress – a hotel she hadn’t meant to stay in at all – and Caroline had to admit: she was nervous. The thought of seeing Edward again – whom she was both angry with for his disinterest in Elspeth’s plight as well as his interest in her… an interest she’d almost returned – concerned her, as did the prospect of another nightmare. She couldn’t ever recall having two in a row; three would make it a hat-trick, a gruesome one.

  Outside the storm was still in full force. Snow had been falling all day, the wind not letting up either, shunting it back and forth. Spending the majority of her afternoon in her room, alternately reading and napping, Caroline found the lights had started to flicker again, with the TV, which she kept on for company as much as anything, joining in on the act.

  Several times she wondered whether David was okay, and if he was still with Elspeth in Marilyn’s room or had gone back to 310. Certainly, she hadn’t heard any movement outside, but it was a long, long corridor, she reminded herself, and she was in what was akin to a bubble, separated by walls and doors. She’d considered going to check on them several times, but couldn’t get rid of the sense she’d be intruding again, that Raquel was right; the worst thing you could do was crowd Elspeth. She was as fragile as a butterfly, as easily damaged; irrevocably perhaps? She hoped not. But it was plain to see there was a world of hurt in her, drugs being the Band-Aid that couldn’t prevent the pain from soaking through.

  All she could do was while away the time until dinner, praying the electrics would hold firm, and that she wouldn’t be plunged into darkness whilst alone and in her room. Another hour passed.

  And another.

  Bloody hell time dragged at The Egress on occasion. She was practically climbing the walls as her watch edged towards eight o’ clock. Leaving the confines of her room, she headed towards the elevator, hoping David would be at dinner, and that he wasn’t otherwise detained. It might even be a full house, guests just as fed up as her of… Of what, Caroline? Being alone? Probably. She shook her head, made light of it. You can have too much of a good thing, you know! One thing she’d readily admit to was being bored with the same old scenery. How she longed for vistas that were ever changing; for hills and mountains, for towns and villages, for air that was cool and crisp. Maybe she’d thought of stuff like that as a God-given right before, but now it seemed such a privilege.

  The elevator was up to its usual tricks, the doors not immediately shutting when the button for the lobby was pressed. Once they’d slid into position, there was a bump and a grind, a sense of moving upwards before grinding again and going in the right direction. Exasperated, Caroline rolled her eyes. She’d appreciate a ‘normal’ elevator in future too.

  In the lobby, she nodded politely to Raquel, who was still sulking. No longer peeved, Caroline felt sorry for her again. When did she ever get to eat, to drink, to enjoy a bit of time off? There must be someone she shared shifts with – that someone probably stuck at home in Williamsfield or thereabouts, just as she was stuck at The Egress, having not got out before the storm took hold. Caroline knew there was such a thing as protocol, but should she offer to fetch her a drink, a glass of wine even? Surely under these circumstances protocol could go to hell. Deciding to make the offer, she walked over.

  “Wine?” Raquel queried, an eyebrow shooting up.

  “I thought you might like a glass. I don’t know when you get the time to eat or—”

  “Althea might have something to say about that.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Although Edward, he’d encourage it.”

  “Edward?” Caroline queried.

  “The other manager.”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise. “He’s a manager too?”

  “Surely you realised?”

  She’d realised he was someone of note, swanning about the place, but not that he managed The Egress alongside Althea, certainly he hadn’t mentioned anything about it to her whilst she’d been with him in his room. “I thought he and Althea might be related.”

  Raquel snorted. “Don’t let either of them catch you say that. They’re not exactly…” she paused, “fond of each other.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Caroline replied, raising an eyebrow too. “And too late I’m afraid, I’ve already asked Edward if Althea was his grandmother.”

  “His grandmother?” Raquel’s mouth fell open. “What did he say?”

  “Well, he said… no.”

  “Just don’t make the same mistake with Althea.”

  She certainly wouldn’t. “Are there no other managers here?”

  Raquel shook her head. “Two’s enough, don’t you think?”

  For a hotel this size she supposed so, although managers in conflict wasn’t exactly the healthiest of scenarios.

  Her stomach growled reminding her how hungry she was.

  “So there’s nothing I can bring you?” she asked again.

  “I’ll eat… and drink, later. But thanks anyway.”

  “You do go off duty at some stage, don’t you?”

  “I don’t sleep at my desk, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  Caroline laughed. “No, I wasn’t implying anything.”

  Picking up a pen, Raquel started scribbling in that register of hers. Taking the hint, Caroline dismissed herself, glancing at herself in one of the mirrors she passed on her way to the ballroom. She’d chosen to wear another pair of skinny jeans tonight, blue this time, and a blouse that was emerald green in colour. She’d also mucked-about with her hair, sweeping it up in a bun, a few tendrils hanging down either side, and applied make-up perhaps a little more thickly than usual. Her fringe covered the bruise on her forehead well enough, but she’d had to use foundation and concealer to cover the one that Elspeth had inflicted. Usually she didn’t have so much time to spend on herself. If she went out in the evening it was often straight from work. Now, though, she had nothing but time.

  Standing at the entrance to the ballroom, she could see that the same tables had been set, posies reinstated, and a variety of people sitting at them, including Marilyn and John, together on one table. She smiled; glad they’d struck up a tentative friendship. Tentative because each looked slightly awkward in the other’s company, perusing the menu just a fraction too long, John pouring water for them both, splashing a little over the sides and onto the tablecloth, and looking abashed that he’d done so.

  There was no Elspeth. And David… where was he?

  “Hello, stranger.”

  A voice at her side made her jump. “Oh, there you are,
” she exclaimed, sounding as breathy as Raquel had at one point during their conversation.

  David smiled. “I’ve missed you too.” He made a show of looking at his watch, slightly adjusting its tan strap. “It’s been, ooh… all of six hours since we last met.”

  “Under onerous circumstances,” Caroline pointed out. “How’s Elspeth?”

  “She wanted to return to her room after a while. She fell asleep almost immediately once she was back in her own bed; she was knocked out and little wonder. Marilyn and I wouldn’t have left her but Jenna, the woman that’s always with Althea—”

  “Her assistant,” Caroline interrupted. “Or her maid, as Althea insists.”

  “Does she?” David chuckled at that. “Well, she knocked on the door and offered to sit with her, to give us a break.”

  “And Marilyn was okay with that?”

  “Yeah, she was. Jenna’s very nice, very… wholesome. I don’t think she’d have let anyone else take her place, though.”

  “Including me.”

  “Don’t take offence, Marilyn’s a bit of a mother hen, that’s all.”

  This woman who’d never had children.

  “I haven’t taken offence, honestly. I think Marilyn’s great. I don’t know what we’d do without her. Hey,” she continued, “did you know Edward’s a manager as well as Althea?”

  “I had put two and two together. Not exactly the dream team, are they?”

  Caroline laughed. “Far from it. Althea’s been here from the beginning, that’s what she said. She was either born here or moved in with her parents when she was a baby.”

  “Really?” David seemed impressed. “So you’ve spoken to her?”

  “Yeah, she invited me in last night for a nightcap, after our… erm…”

  “Spat?” David finished when she hesitated.

  “You know I really am sorry about that.”

  “You’ve already said.”

  “I know but—”

  “But nothing. There’s no need. Let’s forget it, make up for it tonight instead, and enjoy ourselves. As for Althea, good job getting an invite. I kept trying to talk to her yesterday, but Jenna – her maid – kept putting me off: she was tired, she was working, she was having a nap – you know the kind of excuses. I even tried when Jenna was with Elspeth. With her out of the way I thought it might be easier.”

  “And was it?”

  “Nope, she didn’t bother answering the door.”

  “So, what did you want to talk to her about?” Caroline asked.

  “Well… nothing. Nothing important anyway, just a few issues with the hotel.”

  “What issues? To do with the electrics or something?”

  “Well, yeah, something like that, and… my coffee maker, it isn’t working. I need to get it replaced.”

  Caroline was incredulous. “All this fuss over a coffee maker?”

  “Hey! I’m an American, I run on coffee!”

  “So try Edward, he’s a manager too.”

  David sighed. “Or, like John, I could learn to love tap water.”

  “I can’t see that somehow.”

  “No, you’re right, that’s taking it way too far. Whatever, we can’t hang around here; we’re blocking the entrance. We’d better go in and grab a table before they all fill up.”

  “Our usual?”

  “If no one else has snagged it.”

  “They haven’t, I’ve got my eye on it.”

  The minute they were seated Edward entered the room, back to being suited and booted, his eyes searching for and finding hers, holding her gaze, forcing her to be the one to look away. Tallula was on his arm. She looked breath-taking, even more so than before. Her hair spiked up in a punk style, and a black rose, probably made of chiffon, adorning one side. The dress she had on was as white as her hair and once again clung to her hips and waist, nude high heels giving an endless quality to such beautifully shaped legs. An ice-queen if ever there was one, although the way she clutched at Edward’s arm spoke of desperation, to Caroline at least. She must know her man was a player and yet she clearly longed for him. Before she could contemplate it further, more guests entered the room. Not the black-haired teenager – she’d still not put in an appearance – but Elspeth, accompanied by both Jenna and Althea, the pair of them flanking her as though they were on guard. Edward whipped his head around to look at them enter too – the two managers, still at loggerheads with each other if his expression was anything to go by.

  “Are we having wine again this evening?” David asked.

  “With all this going on? Are you kidding me?”

  Jokingly, he palmed his forehead. “You’re right, what was I thinking? This is no time for abstinence.” Lifting one hand, he summoned the waiter to place their order.

  Another night was underway at The Egress, with the same guests, the same situation, the same animosities, the same madness, and the same agitations. But amidst it all was David. Once her glass was filled, Caroline raised it, and drank to that at least.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You’re kidding me, surely you’re kidding me!”

  “I’m not, I promise.”

  “You are, you’re teasing me, getting all… American on me.”

  David looked aghast. “American? Caroline, what’s so American about what I’ve just told you?”

  “That you’re the son of a preacher man?”

  “That’s right, I am.”

  “And yet you’re not religious, in fact you don’t believe in God at all?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Because you’re a rebel?”

  “Because I’ve got a mind of my own, thanks very much.”

  “But you’re still close to your dad?”

  “Sort of. I mean he’s not thrilled about it, but… he’s respectful. As I am of him.”

  “You tolerate each other’s point of view?”

  He sighed. “That’s about the sum of it.”

  “And your mother?”

  “What about my mom?”

  “Do you get on with her?”

  “She’s very supportive of my father.”

  “I see.” Caroline leant back in her chair. “David, how old are you? I haven’t actually asked.”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Oh, you’re younger than me, I’m thirty-three.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “I’ve just had it, beginning of November.”

  “Mine’s at the end of November, so you see, we’re closer than you think.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “One more question.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Have you got any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope.”

  “So, you’re the only son of a preacher man.”

  “Caroline, I fail to see what’s so funny.”

  “Why are you laughing then?”

  “Because… Because…” Desperately, he tried to suppress that trademark grin of his. “I’ll have you know the singer of that particular song was English, not American.”

  “Dusty Springfield?”

  “Correct.”

  “What’s the name of the man in it?”

  “No clue.”

  “Oh come on, you’ve got Internet, haven’t you? Look up the lyrics.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t bring my cell to dinner with me.”

  She screwed up her nose. “Don’t worry, I think I can remember. It’s Billy something.”

  “Billy Ray.”

  “So you do know after all.”

  Swaying in her chair, she began to hum, causing David to adopt a look of horror.

  “Don’t do it,” he pleaded. “Don’t start singing the damn song.”

  “Oh please. You have to let me. The chorus at least.”

  “Caroline…”

  She proceeded to sing how the only man who could ever reach her was the son of a preacher man.

  “Caroline, please!”

  “The only boy who coul
d ever teach me—”

  “I doubt I could teach you anything.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that!” The wine had gone to her head; loosening her up, causing her to flirt again, shamelessly flirt. She’d even caught herself batting her eyelashes, for God’s sake, another realisation that made her giggle.

  “You know, everyone’s looking at us,” David pointed out.

  She leaned closer. “I’m not being that loud. Am I?”

  “You might be,” he replied, and then he sighed. “Ah, to hell with it, we’re having fun. You gotta to have fun in a place like this.”

  “We are,” she agreed, “we’re making the best of it.”

  “Having the time of our lives.”

  “Woah! Steady on. You’ll be wanting the storm to continue at this rate.”

  “Maybe,” he said, holding her gaze.

  Caroline stared just as intently and then, when several moments had passed, started singing a few more lines from the Dusty Springfield song, causing David to rest his head woefully in his hands. Deciding that she’d tortured the poor man enough, she lifted her glass and drank some more wine. They’d finished one bottle already and were steadily working their way through another. Around the room, the conversation was in full flow, even Marilyn and John seemed to be getting along, Marilyn still scratching at her neck every now and then, and John staring more at the jug of water in front of him than at his dinner partner, but there were smiles between them every so often. Elspeth remained subdued, but considering what had happened, it was a miracle she’d made it to dinner at all. At Edward and Tallula’s table several waiters were milling, making a fuss of the manager and the woman he couldn’t commit to. They might have done the same with Althea, but Caroline caught her dismissing any hovering waiters on several occasions, albeit politely. Edward, on the other hand, encouraged their attention, sending them to and fro with various demands, no doubt all of them frivolous, Tallula enjoying by proxy the power he wielded.

  Damn it. Tallula had caught her staring again, a challenge in those frosty eyes of hers, Caroline was certain of it, her smile widening as she pushed back her chair and jumped to her feet. Caroline flinched. What was she up to?