“Hey, Lis! It’s Anders, for you!” called Lynette from downstairs.
Alicia looked up with a start from the sink where she was brushing her teeth. She quickly finished up, checked her reflection in the mirror, pulling a hand through her tousled hair, and padded down the stairs. Anders was standing at the bottom, his lank frame leaning against the wall, his old gym bag by his feet. He gave her a shy smile and she tried to smile back but she was still smarting from the night before.
“Have you got a minute?” he asked.
She glanced at her watch.
“Twenty of them, then I have to run. I’ve got a train to catch.”
“That’s all I need,” he said and followed her inside.
Alicia led the way through the lounge room and out to the tiny backyard. Tiny was an understatement. It was minuscule. But Alicia loved it, nonetheless. It was fenced in by tall brick walls on three sides, all of which were covered in a lush mixture of hot pink bougainvillea and fluorescent green vines. There were two wooden deck chairs around a small rotting wicker table, which was overflowing with various citronella candles, books and magazines. A slightly mouldy, striped hammock was dangling from a hook on one wall, waiting to be connected. When it was hung it swallowed up the entire space, but was well worth it if you were on your own and felt like floating on air. Today Alicia chose one of the chairs and indicated for Anders to take the other, which he did.
He was obviously dressed for work in a smart dark blue fitted suit and crisp white shirt. His steel-grey tie was loose around his neck, waiting to be tightened. He rubbed a hand through his own tousled hair and looked at her sheepishly.
“I’ve come to apologise.”
“No need—” she said but he cut her off.
“No, let me say this, please, Alicia. Let me get it all out before you say anything, promise?”
She nodded and sat back.
“What I was trying to say at the pub on Sunday... I stuffed it up big time. It all came out wrong...”
“Anders—”
“Hey! You promised I could finish.”
She pretended to zip her lips shut and he half smiled.
“I was not saying I don’t want to be part of the book club. Jesus, I love this club. I haven’t had so much fun in ages. I know that sounds awful, I feel bad for the Parlours, I just mean, it’s invigorating being part of all of this.”
She nodded. She felt the same way.
He smiled again. “Well, if truth be told, Missy and Perry both drive me nuts half the time, but I don’t want out. Not at all.” He took a deep breath. “What I was trying to say so appallingly was that I am worried about you.”
“Me? Oops, sorry!” She flung a hand to her mouth. She’d forgotten she wasn’t to speak.
“Yes, you. You seem to be doing most of the heavy lifting in this investigation and I’m worried you’ll get hurt.” He looked into her eyes then and there was an intensity she hadn’t seen before. “When I phoned your house the other day and Lynette told me you were going to see Wanda... going to accuse her of God knows what, well I got really worried. I just wish you’d asked me, or anyone to go along with you. To back you up. You shouldn’t have to do all this by yourself. And it’s potentially dangerous. I mean, sure, Wanda ended up getting let off, but even the police thought she was a killer at one point. You need to be careful, to stop and not rush in. This was supposed to be a bit of fun, it wasn’t supposed to be life threatening. That’s all I was trying to say. And Jesus I botched it up badly...”
He shook his head at himself and gave her another of his breathtaking, heart-stopping, cold shower-inducing smiles. Alicia held a hand up to speak and he laughed then gave her the go-ahead.
“Anders, first up, I also need to apologise—”
“No, you—”
She scowled. “Hey! Now it’s my turn to speak, zip it!”
He shut his mouth.
“I never gave you a chance to finish what you were saying at the pub. I just leapt up and jumped down your throat. I read you all wrong and I’m sorry.”
He nodded, showing he accepted her apology.
“However,” she said. “You must not worry about me. I am touched by your concern, really I am, but I am perfectly safe.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know that because, while you may be the first person to turn up to every event, I am the first person to see danger, even when it’s not there.” She sighed. “Almost always when it’s not there.” He looked at her confused. “It’s hard to explain, but I have a very dark mind. Ask Lynette. I’m a glass-is-half-empty, guilty-until-proven-innocent kind of girl. That’s my burden to bear. I always see the worst in people and events. I am not going to get myself into any kind of danger because I will conjure it up long before it actually occurs.”
He stared at her, eyes squinting slightly through an unruly fringe. “I don’t know what you’re on about,” he said at last. “Just promise me you’ll take care.”
“I promise. I’ll be fine. Why are you so worried about me, anyway? Do I really come across as little Miss Vulnerable?”
He laughed. “Quite the opposite.”
“Good, so stop worrying! You’re worse than my mother and she’s 10,000 kilometres away. I can take care of myself, Anders.”
“I know, I know. I... I just care about you, that’s all.”
Her heart squeezed. She felt breathless and she felt angry, too, because he had a wife and he shouldn’t be caring about her. She glanced at her watch. “I should probably get my skates on.”
“It’s just, well there was one other thing...”
“Yes?”
“It’s about my wife.”
She held a hand up. “Look, it’s really none of my business—”
“Please, I need to tell you this.”
She nodded and sat back, waiting for him to gather his thoughts, just as Lynette appeared at the sliding door.
“Hey, guys, hate to break up your D&M,” she said, “but can I have a quick word, Alicia?”
Anders stared at her curiously as she got up and stepped back inside with her sister.
Alicia asked, “Did you hear back from Niles?”
Lynette nodded, smiling widely. “It’s just like you thought. Niles did lend his car to his sister. That last Tuesday he saw Barbara, when she drove to his café and then her car mysteriously broke down, she asked to borrow his old Beamer to ‘run some errands’. Or so she said. He reckons she had it a good hour or so. Easily could have done it.”
Now Alicia was smiling. “I knew it! The pieces are all falling into place.”
“But why would she—”
“I’ll explain it all later, I promise. I’d better get back out there.” She nodded her head to where Anders was sitting quietly watching them through the glass door.
“Alright then. I’ve got to go anyway, I’m running late and you will be too if you don’t hurry things up.” They exchanged a quick hug. “Promise me you’ll be super careful? And call me the second you get back?”
“I promise,” she said.
“And good luck,” Lynette said, also indicating the man outside.
Alicia smirked at her, then stepped outside and returned to her seat across from Anders. He waited until he heard Lynette slam the front door shut before he continued.
“We’re separated,” he said eventually. “My wife, Vanessa, and I. She’s moved out.”
“Oh,” Alicia said. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Separations could be messy. They could also be reconciled.
“We’re not getting back together,” he said, as if reading her mind. “It’s over, well and truly over. Believe me...” He hesitated. “God this sounds like the plot of a really bad Gwyneth Paltrow movie. It’s the reason I didn’t want to talk about it at the pub, it’s pathetic really.”
“What?”
“I found Vanessa in bed...” He paused again. “She and my brother...”
He couldn’t meet her eyes sudden
ly, but she could read the shame in his tense jaw and the way his shoulders hunched over. He looked battered, defensive, humiliated, and she wanted to reach over and embrace him.
Instead she placed one hand over his and said, “You wife was sleeping with your brother?” He nodded. “When was this?
“Three months ago.”
Oh that makes it raw, she thought, bleeding for him and herself at the same time. He wouldn’t be too keen on any woman at this point in the game. How could he be? It was the ultimate betrayal.
“Are they...?”
“Still together? Yep. The plot gets even better. She’s pregnant now.”
“Oh God.”
Anders looked away, his eyes sheepish, then back at her.
“It’s not really something I like to talk about, it’s the reason I didn’t tell you at the pub. But I should have and I’m sorry. It’s just so bloody humiliating, and it’s split my family in two as you can imagine. I’d... I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone at Book Club.”
“Of course not.” She smiled at him warmly. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He nodded then stood up. “Anyway, I’d better let you go. Sounds like you’ve got a train to catch. Where you off to?”
Alicia hesitated. She wanted to tell him where she was going, wanted to elaborate on what she had discovered last night but she had a hunch he would try to talk her out of it. Or, worse, come with her. She didn’t want that. Not now. She needed to get her head together. She needed to ignore his advice.
“I’ll explain it all later,” she said instead and guided him back through the house to the front door.
He looked at her suspiciously but let it drop.
“Let’s talk later, okay?”
“Absolutely,” she said, and was rewarded with his electric smile in return.
Alicia couldn’t help smiling to herself now as she sat, staring out of the train window as it made its way up the mountain towards Medlow Bath. She tried to shake Anders from her mind but couldn’t stop feeling happy and relieved in equal measure. She was not only relieved he was staying in the club, she was happy he’d confided in her about his wife. She didn’t know what that meant for her, what he really felt for her, but it opened a door she had thought was firmly shut. Perhaps she and the good doctor had a chance, after all?
“Stop it!” she hissed to herself out loud, catching the eye of a fellow passenger. Ignoring him she returned to staring, smiling, out at the view.
When the train arrived at Medlow Bath station, Alicia finally put all thoughts of Anders aside, grabbed her bag and jumped off. She glanced around then began walking south on the Great Western Highway, towards Bellevue Crescent. Within minutes she was standing outside a sprawling, whitewashed hotel that clung to the escarpment like an aging Hollywood beauty. She took a deep breath, strode into the lobby and grinned.
It was as though she had just stepped back in time, back to the halcyon days of Agatha Christie herself. Or even earlier, to Jane Austen’s time.
The Hydro Majestic is aptly named with extensive marbled floors, rich carpets and extravagant art deco arches and dome. It began life as a humble Edwardian house hotel and Australia’s first hydropathic resort back in 1904, and reached its peak after World War 2 when it was considered one of the grandest hotels in the country. It soon became a favourite haunt for Prime Ministers, opera singers and even Sherlock Holmes’ creator Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Eventually, however, time and neglect saw its beauty fade and it began to crumble into insignificance over recent times.
Looking around her now, it was clear to Alicia that this most recent makeover had restored it to its former glory. Today there was a magnificent ballroom, convention rooms, plush lounges, a spa and gleaming restaurant with a gilded ceiling and café, but she bypassed them all and headed straight for the front desk where a receptionist was smiling politely.
“Yes Ma’am, how can I help you?”
“Hi there, I’m looking for Teresa Neele, please.”
The receptionist glanced into her screen and began tapping at the keyboard. Still smiling she said, “I’m sorry, but there’s no one here by that name. Can you spell it?”
Alicia did and the computer still said no. She deflated. Felt like her heart had stopped. So much for that theory, she thought.
Teresa Neele had been the name that Agatha Christie had used at the Harrogate Hydro where she hid out during 11 long days while all of England held their breaths and searched for her back in December 1926. According to the book, the name Agatha chose was really a variation of Nancy Neele, the real name of her husband’s mistress at the time.
Teresa Neele was also the name Agatha used when she placed a mysterious advertisement in a newspaper while she was in hiding. That ad had read: ‘Friends and relatives of Teresa Neele, late of South Africa, please communicate. Write Box R702, The Times, EC4.’ It was almost a replica of the ad that Anders had found referring to Rosa Lopez of the Philippines.
That’s when the penny dropped. Alicia’s heart started pumping again. How could she be so stupid? She turned back to the receptionist.
“How about Rosa Lopez?”
The woman smiled, a little less warmly this time, and glanced back at her screen. Within seconds she was nodding her head.
“Yes, we do have a Rosa Lopez here. Shall I give her room a call?”
“Don’t bother,” said Alicia. “I know where she is. Room 5, right?”
The receptionist glanced at the screen and looked surprised so Alicia took this as confirmation and strode across the lobby towards a sign marked ‘Accommodation’.
At Room 5 she knocked loudly. There was no answer. She knocked again to no avail. But Alicia would not be beaten, not after all the hard work she’d done. After a few minutes, she returned to the foyer and glanced across at the spacious café on one side. It was now just after 10:00 a.m. and she could hear the clink of china cups. High Tea time.
How appropriate, she thought.
As she entered the café, she spotted her, sitting quietly at a corner table, beside a large glass window. Alicia took another deep breath, waved the waitress away and strode over.
“Hello Barbara,” she said. “Thought I’d find you here.”
Chapter 32
Barbara Parlour looked up from her book with a start and for one brief moment looked like she had her own case of amnesia, staring at Alicia blankly before recognition flooded across her face.
“Oh, Alicia Finlay! Fancy meeting you here.” She smiled as though greeting an old friend and indicated the chair beside her. “Will you join me? I’ve just ordered a Darjeeling. Much lighter than English Breakfast. Doesn’t even need milk.”
Alicia stared at her for a few seconds, bewildered by her reaction. So that was how she was going to play it, eh?
She sat down as the older woman placed her book to one side and called the waitress over. She placed another tea order then they stared at each other for a few minutes without speaking.
Today Barbara looked dramatically different from the first time Alicia had met her. Her ash blond hair had been recently streaked with bright, golden highlights and blow-waved into a voluminous curled bob around her face. She had a bright red silk blouse on with red and green beads dangling around her neck, and deep red lipstick which made her look bold and confident; the antithesis of Book Club Barbara.
Beside her was a lavish three-tiered plate of delicate, iced cupcakes, powdery Turkish Delight, cream-laden scones, and sandwiches crammed with smoked salmon and capers. She offered one to Alicia who she shook her head no.
“So,” Barbara said eventually, “how did you find me?”
Her tone was more confident, too, the nervousness gone.
“It took a while, obviously, but we worked it out.”
“God knows I left enough clues. I thought you’d be quicker, to be frank. You people are no match for Hercule Poirot!”
Alicia frowned, anger bubbling in her chest. She swallowed it back down a
nd waited until the tea had been brought before speaking again.
“You led us on a very merry chase, Barbara. We all feel a little stupid to be honest, and pretty pissed off.” Barbara looked surprised by this. “What did you think? We were worried about you, Barbara! We honestly thought someone had kidnapped you or worse. We even suspected poor Arthur—”
“Poor Arthur my foot!” she hissed back.
“He’s dead, you know.”
Barbara glanced out of the window at the glorious mountain view. It was such a clear day you could see right across to the Three Sisters rock formation and beyond. She glanced back.
“Yes, well, I did hear that. But it wasn’t my intention.”
“It wasn’t your intention?” Alicia couldn’t believe the woman’s utter lack of emotion. “He was found clubbed over the head. Your daughter is distraught.”
“Oh Holly’ll survive,” she said dismissively then picked up her teacup and took a long, slow sip.
Alicia shook her head in astonishment. This woman was a monster, but screaming at her was not going to get any answers. Instead, she calmed herself down and said, “Did you do all this just to get back at Arthur?”
Barbara took another sip of tea and shrugged. “He could come across as charming when he wanted to, but Arthur Parlour was a bastard. He started sleeping around on me almost from the start. We’d been back from our honeymoon two weeks when I found lipstick on his collar.” She gave a wry smile. “How cliché.”
“So why didn’t you divorce him?”
“He wouldn’t let me, said it would ruin his chances of promotion at work, and later, at the ballot box.”
Alicia scoffed. “That is ridiculous. It’s not 1926 anymore, Barbara. Nobody cares about divorce these days, besides you could easily have left him. But you didn’t want to leave him, did you? Just like your husband told us...” She paused, almost laughed. “Hell, everyone told us! Wanda, Holly, even your own brother. They all told us you were a drama queen, Barbara, you relished the drama. And we didn’t believe them. Our silly little book club stood up for you. Fought tooth and nail for you. Tell me, Barbara, did you delight in knowing that we were all out there worried about you? Frantically trying to find you? Did you think about your daughter during any of this?”
The Agatha Christie Book Club Page 23