“Oh, Christ,” Caroline whispered, guilt seizing her. She was responsible for this too.
By Elspeth’s side, Althea rose, leaving her in Jenna’s care once again as she made her way towards the group at war. No one dared move a muscle as she approached, not even Edward or Tallula. The woman wore her authority like armour.
Reaching them all too quickly, she glared at Edward. “I want you to stop this.”
“Or what?”
“Or leave.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Leave? As if I can leave.”
“No one’s keeping you here,” Althea returned, not flinching at all.
Once again he looked feral as he bared his teeth. “I’m here because of you.”
Caroline glanced at David; he seemed confused too by this exchange, sensing perhaps, as she did, this wasn’t solely about recent events. It ran so much deeper.
“I’m warning you, Edward, I will not have you running riot in my hotel.”
“This is not your hotel.”
“I’ve been here since the beginning.” Something she’d told Caroline too. “You haven’t.”
“That doesn’t give—”
“You’re not irreplaceable. Remember that.”
“Oh come on now, Althea, better the devil you know, surely?”
“Not always.”
Was Edward trembling slightly? Caroline couldn’t be sure.
“And keep in mind something else,” Althea continued. “There are rules. Adhere to them and teach that acolyte of yours to do the same.”
He was either trembling or shaking with fury. “You’ve had your day, mark my words, mine is yet to come.”
“You don’t frighten me, Edward. Your kind never has.”
“I’m one of a kind, Althea, perhaps you should remember that.”
Beside her, Caroline felt David bristle too. Was he going to get involved again? Rescue another damsel in distress? But Althea wasn’t in distress, far from it; she was the epitome of calm and composure, an affront to Edward’s eyes as he turned his head away, unable to keep staring at her, despite having issued such curious threats.
“It’s different here!” Elspeth had stopped keening and was shouting instead. “I don’t like it, I want to leave. Shoo, shoo, get away, all of you! I can’t stay here.”
Tallula was the first to respond, shaking her head in a wry manner. “All this talk of leaving. Haven’t you been listening, Elspeth honey? It’s impossible.”
Marilyn reacted immediately to Tallula’s sarcasm. “Don’t you speak to her like that, don’t you dare.” Leaving a baffled John behind, she hurried over to Elspeth and Jenna.
“What are you going to do?” Tallula called after her. “Fawn over her again? Feed her more of your sugar-coated lies? Where’s she going to go anyway? Who in hell would want someone like her? What do you call her, Edward? Oh, that’s it; a liability.”
“Edward!” Althea’s nostrils flared. “I told you to keep her under control.”
“Of course we’ll be able to leave.” Marilyn was almost as agitated as Elspeth. “There’s no more snow forecast, the storm’s passing, they said so on the TV. A couple of days and we’ll be gone. Thank goodness.” Fawning over Elspeth, as Tallula put it, she added, “Don’t worry about a thing, honey. I’ll look after you, after The Egress, I mean. If you want me to, if you need me. I miss having someone to look after, ever since… ever since…”
Her technique may have been effective before but Elspeth was having none of it now. She slapped Marilyn’s hand away and backed off from Jenna too. “She’s right, you’re a liar, a big fat dirty liar. We can’t leave. We’re trapped. Ohhhh!” The word was like an explosion, with so much dread in it. “I don’t want this. Not anymore. I want it to go away.”
She was sobbing loudly and, for the first time, even Althea looked rattled. “We have to take her somewhere,” she said. “Encourage her to rest.”
David objected. “We deal with her problem out in the open, we don’t keep hiding her.”
Althea was insistent. “All she needs is rest.” Finally taking her leave of Edward, she returned to her table. David followed, as did Caroline.
“Elspeth, dear,” Althea said, as she drew closer, “listen to me. There really is nothing to fear.”
Spittle flew from Elspeth’s mouth as she shook her head. “You don’t know what I’ve seen. Other things. Bad things. They’re here too, in this hotel. They’re everywhere.”
“I will keep you safe.”
“You? You can’t. You’re… You’re old.”
“Elspeth—”
David interrupted Althea. “We have to find some way of getting her professional help. This situation, the state she’s in, it’s potentially dangerous.”
“We help her,” Althea declared. “There’s no one else.”
David was just as determined. “We call 911, if only to report the situation. Just in case she—”
“Work with me, David,” Althea hissed, “not against me.”
“Lady, I’m not—”
“Are we sure there’s no doctor in the house?” Caroline interrupted, as desperate as David. “Because if there is—”
“Doctor? There’s no one useful in this batch,” Edward said with his usual derision.
“Batch?” Caroline repeated. What the heck did he mean by that?
“If I’m the manager, surely I’d know,” he continued, daring her to challenge him again.
“Oh, honey, honey,” Marilyn was not just appealing; she was begging Elspeth to listen to her. “Move into my room, it’s next door to yours anyway, so there’s no difference, not really. It’d be so lovely to have you. Think of it. We won’t be lonely anymore, either of us.” Tears started to pour down her face too, causing an anguished John to hover close by.
“We have to do something,” Caroline whispered to David. She didn’t mean rescue the evening as such, but certainly try and stop it from deteriorating further.
David nodded in agreement. “Althea, I’m going to reception to dial 911. If I insist it’s an emergency, they’ll do something; there must be a snowplow they can put into action.”
“Don’t you think there are enough emergencies in and around the state?” No longer mute, John had started speaking.
David looked at him. “Well, yeah, but…”
“So many are trapped, or are in danger.”
“I know.”
“So does anyone care about us?”
“John, you have to understand—”
“Do we even deserve to be cared about?”
There was silence for a moment, no one quite knowing how to respond and then Caroline spoke once again. “David,” she instructed. “Just make the call.”
Althea’s eyes followed David as he hurried from the room. With her attention captured, Edward took the opportunity to stride forward, that terrible smile back on his face. Tallula was smiling too, although her eyes remained as cold as ever. What were they up to?
Althea, Caroline wanted to warn her, keep your eyes on Edward not David.
Instead, she was the one staring as he reached out a hand to Elspeth. Why the sudden concern? Certainly, he hadn’t bothered to assist – to manage – when she’d been outside, half-naked in the snow, trying to tunnel her way out of here. The bad things she told Althea she’d seen, were they what she was trying to get away from? Perhaps the drugs she was using were causing her to hallucinate. They’re here in this hotel. They’re everywhere. She’d said that too. But what had she seen exactly? The same things that had haunted Caroline’s dreams, so many souls in torment? And was it true? Were they really everywhere, not confined to 1106? That thought caused her to shake almost as much as John, when he’d poured from the jug of water, when he’d spilt it on the tablecloth. As much as Edward too, when he and Althea were arguing – afraid, enraged, maybe he’d been both.
A scream ripped through her.
It was Elspeth again, a single solitary sound.
Again, they all stared a
t her, some mouths hanging open.
She’d fallen, collapsed in a heap on the floor, a tangle of limbs clad in vivid shades of green, her red hair wilder than ever, like rusted coils. Marilyn dropped to her knees first, followed by Jenna, others rushing forward and crowding her, blocking her from view, from Althea’s too – whose expression was indescribable, although shock was a part of it.
Caroline could understand that shock; she felt it too, along with dismay and confusion – especially confusion. Had what she’d just seen had any relevance, or was it mere coincidence? The moment that Elspeth had collapsed had been the exact same moment that Edward’s hand had touched her flesh.
Chapter Nineteen
It was worse than she’d realised. Elspeth had stopped breathing.
No matter how much effort John and David put into trying to revive her, they couldn’t. She was gone, no more than an empty vessel.
From feeling happy, Caroline was back to being numb inside, afraid of feeling anything, of the pain it would cause.
What is it that you’re so afraid of?
This. Death. The great destroyer. How quickly it could strike.
Marilyn’s sobbing shattered the stunned silence. “How is this possible? How?” Turning his attention from the dead to the living, John tended to Marilyn instead. She clung to him, the carer needing care, solace in it for him perhaps that he was able to fulfil such a role. “I’m sick of death,” she continued. “Sick of it. Poor Elspeth, that poor little girl.”
It was Edward who suggested they should lay her body out in one of the rooms being renovated, confusing Caroline further. If he’d had anything to do with her death – and he couldn’t have done, a simple touch wasn’t enough to kill someone – would he really be volunteering to help right now? She blamed the alcohol, as well as the aggression of earlier – both were fuelling her imagination. She had to keep a grip on reality, not lose it.
David agreed with Edward’s suggestion. Putting their differences to one side, the pair had lifted her body, David at the top end, Edward holding the woman’s legs.
“The fourth floor,” Althea directed. “Take her there. Room 409 is undergoing renovation.”
Those in the ballroom who had witnessed the incident parted like a biblical wave to let David and Edward through. Caroline could hardly bear to watch as they retreated.
The crowd gradually dispersing, she lingered still, her eyes returning to where Elspeth had fallen, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip. Finally, she made her way to reception.
The emergency services had been called again and given an update of what had happened to Elspeth, not by David this time, by Raquel. When David had tried calling, he’d had trouble getting through, the line cutting out. Raquel had had no such trouble.
“It’s done,” she informed Caroline. “They know what’s happened to Elspeth.”
“What has happened, do you think?”
“A heart attack? That seems most likely.”
“And what are they going to do about it?”
Raquel shrugged. “It’s as they said, as soon as they can get here they will. They’ll confirm the death and then take her away, to the morgue probably.”
“The morgue? Is that in the centre of Williamsfield?”
“It is now, yes.”
With little else to say, Caroline set her sights on the elevator, daring it to play up as she approached, as if it were somehow sentient. It didn’t; no stutter, no splutter, no chugging, or grinding. In her room, she lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. She couldn’t sleep. Not after what had happened. She simply lay there for what seemed like forever, staring at the ceiling; a crack in it that she hadn’t noticed before, and in the far corner cobwebs that needed dusting. Sighing with frustration, she screwed her eyes tighter, tried to force sleep to play ball – oblivion would be very welcome right now – but it was no use, the cogs in her mind kept whirring. Was there nothing to be salvaged from the wreck?
That thought developing, she sat up.
What time was it? Not late. Not really. Was David back in his room? If so, would he be able to sleep after all that had happened, or was he just as restless as her? What would he think if she went and knocked at his door? Should she chance it?
Her heart began to gallop.
She’d met many men in her life, had a relationship that had lasted for over three years, fizzling out eventually and leaving her slightly mystified as to why either one hadn’t tried harder to stick with it. Better the devil you know, as Edward had said, but like Althea, she didn’t agree. There’d been another longish relationship – by her standards anyway – eighteen months plus. That had ended too, her feelings waning this time, not his. He’d professed to be heartbroken, had stalked her for several months after their split, begging her to reconsider. But she wouldn’t settle for anything less than a two-way street. Her parents had set the standard – a good thing on the whole, she was certain of it. What they had she wanted too. She’d hold out for it. But no one had come close. No one.
Until now perhaps.
Her body moving as though it had a will of its own, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, and, allowing only a brief pit stop to tug on a pair of jeans and a jumper, she made her way to the door. Grabbing her room key, she moved quickly, afraid that her mind would catch up with her – would start to throw obstacles in her way: doubts.
Reaching the door, she was about to press down on the brass handle, when a short sharp knock on the other side almost caused her to cry out.
Who could it be? Surely not…
Again, refusing to think too much, she yanked the door open.
It was. It was him! David.
Framed by the doorway, he was a welcome but wretched sight. Gaunt was how she’d describe him. His face thinner somehow, his skin even paler than Althea’s if such a thing was possible. There was a bruise developing on his jaw, probably from the tussle with Edward, matching his bruised forehead, and in his eyes there was such weariness.
“Caroline,” he said. Not just a mere utterance of her name, there was a question in it.
“David,” she replied, answering him.
He closed the gap between them in less than a second, wrapping his arms around her.
* * *
For once she could identify with the drowning man, with everybody who’d ever felt the need to hold on. Right now, in the bedroom of 1106, she was clinging to David as if her life depended on it. Every touch of his hand seemed to brand her, to mark her as his. She was his, she belonged to him entirely, and he to her, with only happiness in that, no fear.
The memory of how they’d got to the bed was now a blur – perhaps she’d be able to recall it at a later date, when she thought about it, when she replayed it over and over again, as she knew she would, reliving it when the miles eventually separated them.
But there was nothing separating them now. They were as close as two people could be. That they should have found each other, been forced together by circumstance, by fate perhaps, was nothing less than a miracle. She’d fallen for an American man as her father had fallen for an American woman, falling deeper with every second that passed.
“Caroline,” he was murmuring her name again. No question in it this time, just joy and wonder, his lips having left hers and tracing their way downwards.
She arched slightly, her head pressed back into the pillow. Every second was ecstasy, her breath becoming more and more ragged as he worked his way lower still.
Nothing else mattered, not Elspeth, the argument with Edward, Marilyn’s grief, the mysterious teen, imperious Althea, or the storm that had imprisoned them. She was glad it had done so, sweeping her straight into his arms. It could rage forever, as far as she was concerned, because she didn’t want this to end. Such joy shouldn’t be tainted by what had happened earlier – the brawl, the revelation, the death. Perhaps it was wrong given the circumstances, but it felt so right.
Briefly he stopped and stared into her eyes.
; Everything she was feeling was mirrored in his gaze.
Bittersweet – that’s what this was.
He was hers and she was his, but for how long?
“This is all that matters.” He could read her mind as well as her body.
She didn’t dispute him. The here and now was all they had, all anyone ever had.
His lips sought hers again as he started to move against her, their hips grinding, gently at first but gaining in momentum, fingers dug into shoulders, into each other’s backs; riding a storm of another kind, not a silent one this time, their cries, their gasps, were as loud as thunder, dredged up from the very depths of them, given release at last.
Live. Love.
Finally, she was doing both.
* * *
“Hey.” Half-closed, David’s eyes were almost as feline as Edward’s.
“Hey, yourself,” she answered.
Morning had come too quickly. The hours in between spent exploring each other as much as possible, and dozing rather than sleeping – there was no way she could sleep.
With one hand, he reached out to push some hair behind her ears, his fingers lingering, brushing against her cheek too.
“You’re beautiful, d’ya know that?”
She knew how he meant it, not just physically, but inside too, as he was to her.
As on the dance floor, tears filled her eyes, catching her by surprise.
He pushed himself upwards to rest on one arm, surprise on his face too. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
She rushed to reassure him. There was nothing she regretted, nothing at all. “I… just don’t want this to end.”
“Why does it have to?”
“Reality,” she said, trying to explain. “It’ll kick in soon enough.”
His lips curved into a wry smile. “This feels pretty real to me.”
She tried to laugh too. “Some holiday romance, huh?”
“Holiday romance? Caroline! You sure know how to demean a situation.”
She winced. “Sorry, but over-enthusiasm can scare a guy off.”
“Not this guy, you be as enthusiastic as the mood takes you.”
The Eleventh Floor Page 16