To Face The Past

by Karen Abbott

  Matt looked devastatingly handsome in his long wide-sleeved jacket, tightly–fitting hose and winkle-picker shoes. Leanne chose a more ornate style, complete with decorative brocade bodice and a flared and bejewelled headband. Phil had gone for the ‘Lord of the Manor’ look and took pleasure in strutting around in his embroidered banded cloak with its cord and brooch fastening.

  After feeling self-conscious for a couple of hours, they soon forgot how strange they looked and joined in the fun. There was music, dancing, and a display by acrobats and jugglers ... and a truly magnificent feast, menus for which Tony had found by surfing the Internet.

  Eva pushed aside her heartache over Matt. It was something she would either have to get over or learn to live with—neither of which seemed possible whilst they were living and working in such close contact. He had said his job here was temporary, but he made no move to leave. How temporary was temporary? Why, oh why had she left it so long to pluck up the courage to re-open the past? She now felt she had lost Matt for the second time ... and it hurt as much as the first time.

  Could she bear to see the season out if Matt stayed that long? Maybe she should be the one to leave? Or, maybe, the question was, ‘could she bear to leave at all?’ She loved it here! It was getting deep into her soul, like a living being. Which it was, she reflected. The hotel was made up of people … most of whom, she liked.

  She was on late duty and was the last to leave Reception apart from the night porter. The lights were low and gentle music was piping softly through the sound system as she made her way upstairs. A door further along the corridor from hers opened. Leanne’s she thought—only it wasn’t Leanne who came out. It was Matt! So, why was she surprised!

  More important—why was she still hurt?

  Matt look startled when he saw her and he paused fractionally, before continuing towards her. He had changed out of his mediaeval costume and was now wearing a tracksuit. Huh! Had he had had his ‘leisure time’ with Leanne? A sob caught in her throat. Thankful that she was at her own suite, she swung around, inserted her key and opened the door.

  “Eva!”

  She ignored Matt’s low call and swiftly moved inside and closed the door, locking it firmly just as Matt’s knuckles rapped softly on its panels.

  “Eva! Let me in! I want to talk!”

  “Well, I don’t! Goodnight!”

  She found it difficult to sleep. She drew back her curtains and lay looking through the window into the dark sky, her thoughts running over the past few weeks since she and Matt had been thrown together again. The warmth of his smile vied with the cool appraisal in his eyes; the touch of his hand ... with his hasty withdrawal; the softness of his voice when he had called her ‘Sweetheart’... with the coldness when he had told her it was all a mistake. ‘Too late.’ hadn’t he said?

  What was she hoping for? A sudden renewal of his love for her? It hadn’t happened up until now—she had to face the facts. It wasn’t going to happen—not ever!

  Eva wasn’t on duty until late again, so she took her time getting up and ordered room service for her breakfast.

  She had showered and put on her leisure suit, when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in!” she called, brushing out her hair. “Put it on the table by the window, will you?”

  She turned as she spoke. “Matt!”

  “Sorry to startle you! I wanted to see you.”

  “And I told you last night that I didn’t want to see you!”

  Matt walked over to the table and placed the breakfast tray on it. Eva was too startled to move away. Her hairbrush was halted partway through a stroke.

  “I always loved to see you brushing your hair.” Matt smiled as he stepped towards her. He eached out to push a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

  Eva jerked away. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Don’t be upset, Sweetheart,” Matt said softly.

  “But that’s just it, isn’t it! I’m not your sweetheart! What I find hard to believe is that Leanne is!”

  There, she’d said it!

  “She isn’t.”

  “Well, you’re obviously having an affair with her!”

  “I’m not having an affair with Leanne! Not even a pretence of one, however much she flutters her eyelashes at me.”

  “Leanne seems to think you are!”

  “Leanne would.”

  “Then, why were you coming out of her room last night? Don’t tell me you were on room service then, as well!”

  “No. Leanne called me. She said there was something she wanted to tell me. I believed her.”

  “And?”

  “She hadn’t. Nothing important, anyway.”

  Eva turned away in exasperation. “Why are we having this conversation? You’ve made it pretty clear that I’m well and truly in the past as far as you’re concerned.” She turned to face him again. “To tell you the truth, Matt, I’m finding this pretty hard to cope with. One of us has to go! Soon! If you won’t go, Matt, then I will have to!”

  “No, don’t do that! But I can’t go, Eva. Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I haven’t done what I came here to do!”

  “Which is?”

  Matt hesitated. He looked away, out through the window … and then back again. “Look, Eva. What I’m about to say, no-one in this hotel must know! Agreed?”

  “What is this?”

  “I’m serious, Eva. I’m here on a special assignment.”

  “Huh! Shades of MI5?”

  “Seriously, Eva! You must know that things aren’t all aboveboard here. The hotel has been losing money for years.”

  “Isn’t that because of the elderly couple who owned it?”

  “Partly … but not entirely. That should have stopped when the consortium took over … but it didn’t.”

  “So?”

  “Someone on the inside is bleeding the system dry. It’s my job to find out who it is.”

  Eva considered his words. “So, who is it?”

  “Remember me saying, ‘Give a man enough rope and he will hang himself’?”

  “Yes. You were talking about Burt, weren’t you?”

  “No. I was talking about Phil Crawleigh.”

  “Oh!” She let her breath out slowly. She wasn’t over–surprised. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Her mind worked on. “So, where does Leanne come in?”

  “She might be his daughter!”

  “Might?”

  “Someone is helping Phil to cover up. He couldn’t manage it on his own. The risk would be too great.”

  “But, why, ‘daughter’?”

  “I overheard him on the telephone to someone, saying, ‘Don’t worry. My daughter will take care of that.’”

  “And you think it’s Leanne?”

  “I’m not sure … but she’s my odds on favourite.”

  Eva was stunned. She had never suspected it … but as she dwelt on it, and cast her mind back, a few things began to make sense … such as Leanne’s displeasure at Tricia’s complaint about Phil’s sexual harassment of her. Was Carys’s dismissal part of this? It also brought into question the dismissal of Bethan’s friend, Lowri, and, more recently, Burt.

  Lost in thought, she realised that Matt was still talking.

  “We knew someone had to be in cahoots with Phil but didn’t know who.”

  “We?”

  “Will Dagnall and I. It could have been Meriel, Bethan, Leanne, even Burt or Dilys.”

  “Burt was always at odds with Phil.”

  “It could have been a front … but when he was sacked, thankfully it put him out of the frame.”

  “Thankfully?”

  Matt grinned. “I could hardly have dated Burt to get at the truth, could I?”

  “He was about the only one you didn’t!”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed slightly and he glanced at her from under hooded lids. “Do I detect a note of jealousy?”

  Eva’s heart skipped a bea
t. She felt nonplussed. Did he want her to be jealous? She mentally shook herself. She’d already fallen into that trap once before and he’d made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested.

  “No,” she managed to answer coolly. “It was just an observation. So, why did you date Tricia? She only started here when I did.”

  Matt grinned again. “Ah, well, if I was to play the field, I thought I might as well play it fully!”

  “You did that, all right! So, where do we go from here?”

  “I need to keep up the ‘Casanova’ image a while longer.”

  “Why?”

  “Phil needs a bit more rope!”

  Chapter Nine

  The success of the Mediaeval Theme Week made week before the Victorian Week seem almost dull by comparison.

  “Take the opportunity to catch up on any work by day … and sleep by night!” Meriel advised. “I think I visibly aged last week with too little beauty sleep!”

  “It will add authenticity to the severe look of the Victorians,” Tricia tried to console her.

  “Thanks a lot! You were supposed to refute my statement!”

  Eva laughed. “She’ll learn!”

  The phone rang. Tricia answered it.

  “Is Phil in?” she turned to enquire, her hand over the receiver.

  “He’s on duty this afternoon when I go off duty,” Eva answered. “Can I deal with it?”

  “Miss Cunningham, one of our assistant managers, is here,” Tricia dutifully passed on the message. “I’ll pass you on to her, shall I? Pardon? Oh, fair enough. Do you want to hold on whilst we try his internal phone?” She switched on the music tape and pressed Phil’s suite number. Whilst she was waiting she silently mouthed, “Sorry, Eva. He said he wanted to speak in person with Phil. It must be something private. Oh, Phil! An outside call for you! You’re through to Mr. Crawleigh, caller!”

  Eva got on with her work. She was finalising the figures for the previous week, disappointed by how little profit they had to show for it all. The promoters must have done pretty well. Unless they had given the reservations away at knock-down prices. She hoped the hotel made more from the Victorian Week. It was hardly worth all the effort otherwise.

  The phone rang again.

  “Phil wants to see you upstairs, Eva,” Tricia told her.

  “Right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he say what about?”

  “No. He sounds a bit rattled though. What have you been up to?”

  Eva smiled. “Clear conscience!”

  She clicked onto ‘save’ and tidied the desk in case she didn’t get back to it and then went upstairs. She wondered if it was anything to do with the phone call … but, if it had been a personal call, as it seemed, what did it have to do with her?

  She was surprised to see Matt just entering Phil’s apartment and quickened her step to arrive before he closed the door.

  “What’s it all about, Phil?” Matt asked. “You seemed pretty concerned on the phone.

  “A bit of a set-back, I’m afraid,” Phil began without preamble. He seemed unaccustomedly disconcerted. “The team booked to run the Victorian Week have pulled out. Seems they were in motorway pile-up. None killed, fortunately, but some fairly seriously injured … and their props are a write-off. It leaves us in a bit of a fix, though, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, the poor things!” Eva sympathised. “And our guests are going to be very disappointed. What will we do with them? They’ll be expecting to be entertained.”

  “I don’t see what we can do at such short notice,” Matt commented. “Any other such groups will be well and truly booked up.”

  “Can’t we do something on our own?” Phil asked desperately. “You two were pretty well involved last week. You must have picked up some tips.”

  Eva laughed incredulously. “We were only on the sidelines! And Victorian is a far cry from mediaeval! Where would we get costumes for a start?”

  “I’ve got contacts. I’m sure I’ll be able to get hold of something. What do you say?”

  Eva had never seen him looking so fraught. “I don’t know, Phil. There’s not enough time. We’ll be working flat out, as it is.”

  “Besides which, it’s not our problem!” Matt shrugged. “Presumably the promoters will have been fully insured.”

  Phil glowered at him. “We’ll be the ones who lose out with the bad publicity! I’ve even got a television crew lined up to come and give coverage. We could have a minor riot on our hands!”

  “Do the promoters know yet?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if we’ve been informed about it, I would have thought the promoters would have been told first. That’s what they’re there for … the in-between men. They’re the ones who made the contact in the first place, aren’t they?”

  “Well, yes.” Phil sounded uncertain.

  Eva looked at Matt. Something wasn’t quite right, here!

  “I tell you what, Phil,” Matt offered. “I’ll get on to the promoters and see what they have in mind. They must be used to this sort of thing happening and make provision for it.” He got out his mobile phone. “What did you say their number is?”

  “I didn’t. I’ll deal with it, if you don’t mind!” Phil said, suddenly forcefully. His face suddenly recovered its colour. “Leave it with me.” He waved them away. “I’ll let you know what we manage to sort out.”

  Eva and Matt left his apartment together. Matt took hold of her arm and put his finger to his lips. “Come with me,” he mouthed.

  He drew her towards his own apartment that was further along the corridor. It was the first time Eva had been inside it. Its décor was pretty much the same as her own, though Matt’s own stamp of personality gave it individuality. She noticed a picture on the wall … one that she had given him on their first wedding anniversary. It pleased her to know he still had it.

  “What do you think?” Matt asked. “I’ve never seen Phil so agitated! There’s more to this than the risk of bad publicity!”

  “And, if it’s anything to do with the phone call he’s just received, whoever it was, wouldn’t speak to me as duty-manager. He insisted on speaking directly to Phil.”

  “Hmm!” Matt looked thoughtful. “Who’s on Reception?”

  “Tricia and Meriel.”

  “Good!” He strode over to his internal telephone and dialled Reception. “Tricia? What was the last call received? Are you sure? Right, listen carefully and don’t say a word to anyone! Pick up the outside phone immediately before it has time to ring again and dial 1471 ... and write down the number you’re given. I’ll be right with you!”

  He put down the phone and grabbed Eva’s arm again. “Come on! Unless I’m very much mistaken, the noose is being tied!”

  They hurried along the corridor and down the stairs to Reception.

  “Who do you think it was?” Eva asked, as they slowed down to a walk, trying to look casual.

  “I don’t know! But it’s the first break we’ve had.”

  “Will you be able to trace it?”

  “I’ll get someone to ring it. If it’s the sort of set-up I think it is, they’ll bite at the cherry and we can take it from there.”

  In Reception, Tricia handed a piece of folded paper to Matt. Matt glanced at it and then slipped it into his pocket.

  “Thanks, Tricia.” He smiled disarmingly and Eva watched Tricia’s reaction with some sympathy. His smiles did that to her as well … only she had stopped hoping they meant anything more than his natural charm. Matt looked intently at Tricia. “Not a word!” he reminded her quietly. “It’s very important!”

  Tricia’s eyes were full of questions but she resisted the urge to ask any.

  “I’ll get straight on to this,” Matt said quietly to Eva, drawing her with him, slightly away from the front desk. “I’ll go outside to do the necessary phone calls, just to be on the safe side.” He touched her shoulder. “Cheer up! I’ve got a feeling we’re almost through!”<
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  Eva had another two hours on duty. They passed uneventfully and she was able to finish her work in hand. When Phil came to take-over at two o’clock he gave nothing away in his demeanour.

  “How’s it going?” she asked, feeling that some sort of query would be expected.

  “Fine! Fine! I’m getting thee!” he assured her

  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  She drove into town and had a light afternoon tea in a pleasant café on the main street. Her mind was full of intriguing questions and didn’t want to return to the hotel. Instead, she drove along as far as St. Dogmaels, where she parked her car and made her way down to the beach. The tide was out and she took pleasure in strolling along the sand, stopping every so often to pick up a shell or a distinctive stone, a childhood habit that had stayed with her.

  What was Phil up to? She had no doubt that it was something underhand or even illegal. Had he been ‘cooking the books’? As general manager, he had ample opportunity, especially with Leanne as a willing ally. But, what about the hotel’s accountant? Wouldn’t he have noticed something? Even she had been shocked by the low state of the hotel’s finances. A trained accountant should have been instantly on the alert!

  And, this present matter? Was it more than concern for the hotel’s reputation? Matt seemed to think so. She sat on a rock, staring out to sea. The gentle, rhythmic lap-lap of the waves was soothing to her mind and she felt much refreshed by her quiet hours.

  On her return, she met Phil in Reception, his face wreathed in smiles.

  “We’ve hit lucky!” he announced in answer to her query. “I’ve managed to book a Band and the local Historical Society is going to arrange a couple of Talks and perform some sketches. They might even be able to get us some costumes. And I’ve found someone who knows about Victorian menus. She said she can put something together towards the end of the week. We won’t make much money on it but we’re back in business!”

  Eva was glad about that. She didn’t want the hotel to lose its reputation. It was still clawing its way back up after the previous few years of neglect. A discreet enquiry revealed that Matt was still out. Leanne had taken over in Reception and Eva didn’t want to risk rousing her suspicions that Phil’s activities were under scrutiny, so she went quietly upstairs to her apartment.