by Janet Pywell
He turns away to look at the chestnuts and firs in the distance, and it gives me a chance to study his profile, his swollen bruised eye and his clenching jaw.
‘Mike emailed me. He told me he wanted to expand the company. He’s been wanting to do it for years, importing and exporting to and from America, but Dad’s always resisted, America never interested him. He’s a control freak and America, and expansion frightens him. He’s lost his edge. He was a good businessman, but he’s lost it. He’s only got eyes for her. She controls him.’
‘I don’t believe that.’ I’m still in my boxing stance.
‘No, well, what would you know? You’re only a cook.’ He turns away and calls over his shoulder, ‘And a mediocre one at that.’
I’m inclined to run at him, kick him in the back of the calf and break his bones but I don’t. He has to get over his second bout of humiliation, so I’ll let him have that point.
I find the key to my room on the floor. I pick it up and lock it securely, and then I walk back to the main house with my chest thumping. ‘Half an hour,’ I say to Bobby the blackbird twittering on the garden fence. ‘Then they are all gone.’
* * *
Paula gives me instructions that the cake and extra food are to be packed up, and it keeps me busy. Hugo is placing the uncorked bottles in the crates and I assume he’ll carry them to the Mercedes that Jim drove up in from London.
I feel my mood lifting, knowing they will soon be gone, and beside me Julie is humming as we clean and pack up together.
Only Mrs Long is unhappy. ‘There’s still the matter of that gun,’ she complains. ‘We need to call the police.’
‘They’ll be leaving soon,’ Julie says.
‘Thank goodness. My back is killing me. I can’t wait to get home and put my feet up. I’m exhausted.’
‘Only a little while, Mrs Long. You can go home early after the guests have gone. Ronda and I can finish up.’
‘You’re a good girl, Julie. Thank you.’
‘They’re gathering in the Grand Hall,’ Dan says. ‘It looks as if they can’t wait to leave here either. Is the minibus here yet? I’m going away tonight for our friends stag weekend in Belgium, and I’m not missing that flight for anything.’
‘Hugo? What time is your train?’ Mrs Long asks.
‘At six o’clock.’
‘Mac will take you to the station.’
‘Great. Thank you.’ Hugo heads out of the kitchen towards the cellar.
‘You’ll be on your own here tonight, Ronda,’ Mrs Long says. ‘But Mac will be around if you need anything.’
‘I’ll be fine. I’ll take a walk and sleep. Don’t worry about me. I might even try the village pub.’
‘Herr Schiltz is speaking to the family,’ Dan whispers, standing at the door to the Grand Hall. ‘Do you want to listen?’
They all crowd at the door, but I hang back, waiting and wondering if Jim will come and get me. I hear Herr Schiltz’s voice above the hum of the dishwasher and Bobby the blackbird singing outside on the fence.
I hardly dare to breathe.
Herr Schiltz’s voice is measured and calm.
‘This has been an interesting weekend, and I’ve given the events some thought. As you know, I wanted to tell you in person that I was resigning from my position on the board, and as managing director. I also wanted to discuss the future of the ongoing business with my sons who have, under the circumstances, been very understanding.’
I leave the kitchen table and wander to the doorway to look over Julie’s shoulder at the family.
There hasn’t been a mention of Louisa or her birthday weekend.
Herr Schiltz is holding court at the head of the table. There’s no sign of Jim or Paula.
Herr Schiltz nods at his lawyer. ‘Paula will liaise with the lawyers and make the necessary adjustments to the company paperwork. Mike and I will sort out the business details. Thank you all for coming here and for taking the time to celebrate Louisa’s birthday – I’m sure you’ll all agree, it’s been a weekend we will all remember.’
There are smiles of appreciation and a small clap from Roma and Fran.
‘Unfortunately, there’s one detail that’s hanging over our heads. That’s the matter of the parcel left for Louisa, but then I began to wonder if the parcel was meant for me? You see, that’s where I sat last night and no one knew – not even me – that I would exchange seats. So, knowing that this wasn’t directed at Louisa but rather at me, I will consider this after the weekend is over – and notify the police.’
‘Good,’ Fran shouts. ‘You know Iris and I were the best of friends. That’s not to say, I don’t love you, Louisa – but it’s the right thing to do, Friedrich.’
‘Thank you, Fran.’ Herr Schiltz bows his head in acknowledgement. ‘However, I feel that certain questions still need to be answered. So, I have asked Paula…’ He pauses, and everyone looks around for her, but she isn’t in the room. ‘To arrange for us to stay on for one more night.’
In the kitchen, Mrs Long lets out a short gasp.
‘What?’ cries Dan.
‘No shit,’ adds Julie.
A small groan breaks out in the Grand Hall, but Herr Schiltz holds up his hand.
‘Not all of you will stay. Some of you will be going home. Louisa and I will stay, as will Fran and Mike, and Gunter and Roma. Just the six of us.’
Roma looks positively upset.
‘I can’t stay. The children need me. I must—’
‘Paula is arranging everything. It will all be sorted out in a few more minutes.’
‘Am I staying?’ Wilhelm calls.
‘No. You’re not required.’
Wilhelm looks furious. ‘But we can stay. Chloe and I can stay. We don’t have to get back to—’
‘No, thank you, Wilhelm. You are going home. There are just six of us staying. I’m rather hoping we can persuade some of the kitchen staff to stay on too.’
We all move back from the door, hoping they won’t see us, but knowing they have.
‘I’m not staying,’ Dan whispers.
‘I can’t do any more. I’ll be ill with my heart.’ Mrs Long looks visibly distraught, and Julie takes her hands.
‘It’s alright, Mrs Long. I can stay. I’ll do one more night and Ronda is here anyway, aren’t you?’
I pause. I can’t refuse. ‘Of course.’
‘There’s only six of them and two of us. It will be like cooking dinner at home, won’t it, Ronda?’
I’m thinking of the implications. It isn’t just the number of people to cater for because there’s also Jim and Paula.
I’m more concerned that this is Herr Schiltz’s way of getting me on my own.
Is he getting rid of everyone so I am here, at their mercy?
‘Are you wondering what to cook, Ronda?’ Dan grins. ‘You look like the judge has just given you a life sentence for murder.’
* * *
We’re expected to wait outside Castle Calder, as is tradition, and wave off the guests. We line up as if it’s a Downton Abbey send-off. Mrs Long, Julie, Dan, and the cleaner and her sister and me with Hugo and Mac at the end of the line.
Herr Schiltz and the remaining guests wait at the bottom of the steps, near the minibus that will take the others to the airport.
Freya kisses me on the cheeks and whispers, ‘Thanks, Ronda.’
‘I’m pleased it’s all worked out.’
‘You know?’ She sounds surprised and frowns at me. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Well aside from you looking much happier, I saw you both running back from the river this morning.’
Freya giggles and I realise she’s a pretty young girl and I imagine how Louisa, her mother, must have looked in her twenties.
I smile. ‘Good luck.’
‘We’ll need it.’
‘I’d love another night here. Louisa is so lucky to have such a thoughtful and wonderful husband,’ Chloe says loudly. ‘Thank you, Ronda. Superb food.’
Jack
hugs his mother and walks past me without saying a word.
Wilhelm follows him; he doesn’t look at me, and I get a flicker of satisfaction when I glimpse his bruised cheek.
Chloe stops in front of me.
‘Thank you, Ronda.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She leans closer to me and drawls, ‘It was very unnecessary what you did to Wilhelm yesterday. He was drunk. He didn’t deserve that.’
‘Chloe, get on the bus,’ Wilhelm shouts from his seat on the bus.
‘One day you’ll get your comeuppance,’ she whispers. ‘And it might be quite soon.’
* * *
Paula is waiting in the kitchen with her clipboard.
‘Please can I ask for your help, Ronda?’ She looks earnestly at me. ‘Herr Schiltz will pay you well for this extra day. The same as for the entire weekend. Paid directly into your bank account first thing in the morning.’
‘Of course.’ I smile. I am pleased with the thought of the extra money.
‘I’ve checked with the reservation company, and they are happy to extend the stay for one night. They’ve been in touch with Mac, and he’s also happy with the arrangement.’
‘The guests have gone.’ Hugo comes into the kitchen. ‘Herr Schiltz and Louisa are taking a walk to the river. Fran and Mike have retired to their rooms and Gunter and Roma would like coffee on the battlements.’
‘Where’s the gun?’ asks Julie.
Mac replies, ‘I have it locked away. It was one of the conditions that I let them stay, but to be honest, I don’t think anyone has any bullets. Someone produced it for effect. To shock.’
‘It certainly did that!’ Mrs Long says.
‘Who will make the coffee?’ Hugo looks at Julie and smiles.
Julie moves to the kettle. ‘I’ll do it.’
Mac watches her walk across the kitchen, but she won’t meet his gaze. She ignores him.
‘Jim and I are also staying,’ Paula adds.’ Is that alright? Will there be plenty of food?’
‘I can always go into town,’ Mac replies.
‘Can I go now?’ Dan asks Mrs Long. ‘I’ve got a flight to catch this evening.’
‘Of course, I’ll be leaving shortly. I’ve told Mr Schiltz that you’ll be cooking tonight, Ronda, and you’ll be serving the table, Julie.’
A small giggle escapes Julie’s lips.
Mac grins and looks at me. ‘So, it’s all worked out. The six guests can eat in the Grand Hall, and the six workers can eat down here.’
I count them in my head: Mac, Julie, Jim, Paula and me. ‘Six?’
‘Hugo has cancelled his train. He’s leaving tomorrow now.’
My tummy flutters momentarily, blocking out the fear that Jim has a recording of me placing the package on the table.
What are they planning?
I must take care.
I pull out my notepad and pencil.
‘What are you doing?’ asks Mac.
‘I’m going to have a coffee and plan the dinner menu, is that okay?’
‘Your hands are shaking badly, Ronda. Are you sure you’re alright?’
* * *
My hands are still shaking when I let myself into my room an hour later. I fumble for my phone, expecting a long message from Inspector Joachin explaining how he will rescue me.
I pull out the phone he gave me, but there’s no message. There’s no reply from Inspector Joachin.
I type:
I’m worried. 6 guests and Hugo staying an extra night. Herr S has the gun. Help!
I send then delete the message.
* * *
After saying farewell to Mrs Long, the afternoon is quiet. We prepare what we can for dinner, and afterwards Julie and I agree to some free time to relax which seems ambitious considering how wired and anxious I am. When I look out of the kitchen window, Bobby is tweeting happily, his world unchanged.
Julie disappears around the corner of the secret herb garden without a backward glance where I assume she’ll sit in the sunshine and smoke a cigarette.
I’m making tea when Hugo walks in.
‘Is there enough in the pot for me?’
‘Where have you been?’
‘Checking on things.’
‘Like what?’
He grins mysteriously. ‘Things.’
‘Do you want to sit outside with me or are you busy?’
‘No, I’m all yours.’
‘You wish,’ I quip and carry our mugs outside.
There’s no sign of Julie, and we sit companionably on the bench in the afternoon sunshine.
‘Well, that was an unusual weekend …’ I say. ‘How come you’re staying on, Hugo?’
‘Herr Schiltz asks me to.’
‘Really?’
‘He asked you too, didn’t he?’
‘I had a message via Paula.’
Hugo frowns, and my paranoia begins to fester. What if they’re planning something awful? Could Hugo be a part of their plan? All this pretence of showing me the secret room and spying on them. It could all have been a clever ploy to make me feel safe, to mislead me, to lull me into trusting him.
‘Ronda?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where were you? You’re not listening. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Look, Ronda, I may have only known you a couple of days, but I feel as though I know you – if you know what I mean.’ He laughs. ‘Is there something bothering you? Is it what happened at breakfast?’
‘You mean the gun?’
‘Well, it’s unsettling, isn’t it? Dan and Mrs Long were both upset. I had to speak to them.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes – and Julie, although Mac is there for her.’
I glance at him sideways. He has a strong jaw and dark stubble on his olive coloured, Mediterranean skin.
‘How long have you known Herr Schiltz?’ I ask.
‘Probably about two years.’
‘How did you meet him?’
‘After a sommeliers’ conference. He was staying in the same hotel.’
‘In London?’
‘No, in France, why?’
‘I just wondered.’
‘We got chatting, and he liked me. He asked me to his home in Verbier that winter, then to various places in Germany, and also London.’
‘Do you work for him most of the time?’
He stretches out his legs. ‘I probably could. He certainly pays me enough, but I also work for a few restaurants in the south of France and also in the north of Spain. It’s a change of scene, and then when he wants me, I’m available.’
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘I like fine wines and—.’
‘Women and song?’ I quip.
His eyes narrow. ‘Champagne mostly.’
I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. After James, I didn’t think I’d be interested in anyone for a long time. Now, here I am thinking of Hugo as if he’s a potential suitor and I’m on a blind date. My choice in boyfriends, as Tina frequently tells me, is notoriously bad. And, thinking of Hugo, he’s educated, handsome, well-travelled and probably an all-round playboy. Even if he were interested, he would just be another lousy option who would inevitably break my heart.
‘Can I ask you something, Ronda?’ he whispers.
I don’t open my eyes, and I murmur, ‘Ummm.’
‘Would you like to come upstairs with me?’
My eyes fly open, and I suddenly sit up straight and giggle.
‘You see, the thing is, I’m not sure what’s going on now with the family,’ he adds.
‘Is it any of your business?’
‘Well, actually, yes. I’ve been the sommelier for most of all Herr Schiltz’s business functions for two years, but I don’t think that Mike likes me. And, if Herr Schiltz is retiring and no longer working – then I could be out of a job.’
‘So you want me to go upstairs with you?’ I smile at the irony and my odd perception o
f our relationship. How can I be so stupid? How could I misread our relationship?
‘Well, Ronda, it’s a good cover like before, if we get caught. They’ll think we’re, you know—’
‘What?’
‘Well, that we’re interested in each other – you know, romantically.’
‘Ah.’
It was all clear to me now. I had been a convenient ruse for Hugo so that he could go sneaking around the castle listening to conversations while stringing me along and pretending it was all fun and a great adventure. I had been his cover, a fake alibi, in case someone spotted us. That’s why had kissed me, that time when Mrs Long saw us.
I stand up. I’ve been a complete fool and once again, taken for a ride. It’s not Hugo’s fault. It’s mine. I’m a total numpty with unrealistic expectations. How could a man like Hugo ever be attracted to someone like me? I’m the girl-next-door type.
‘Come on then, Hugo. Let’s go spying.’
‘Really? Thanks, Ronda, you’re a real treat.’
‘That’s what friends are for.’
Chapter 16
‘One-year-olds learn concealment. Five-year-olds lie outright: they manipulate via flattery. Nine-year-olds – masters of the cover-up. By the time you enter college, you’re going to lie to your mom in one out of every five interactions.’
Pamela Meyer
‘There’s one thing I don’t understand,’ I say to Hugo as we climb the back staircase. I’m whispering as if the walls have ears. ‘Herr Schiltz said that they had camera footage of the person who placed the package on the table. He said that Jim had put hidden cameras around the castle.’
We’re walking toward the library. Hugo grins and opens the door and, when he sees it’s empty, he pulls me inside.
‘That’s the funny thing. I saw him do it.’ Hugo closes the door behind us, and instinctively I look at the hidden panel behind the books.
‘Are we definitely alone?’
Hugo follows my gaze and strides over, releasing the hidden panel lever so the door swings open. The passageway is empty.
‘All alone, Ronda. There’s no need to worry.’
‘I’m paranoid someone will hear us. Where’s Jim?’
‘He’s been sent on an errand to the village.’
Feeling marginally better, I sit on the couch while Hugo walks around the room. He stops to sniff the wine decanter professionally.