Other People's Bodies

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Other People's Bodies Page 2

by Amy Cross


  Smiling politely, I head over to the sofa. As I take a seat, I can't help but overhear one of the receptionists making a harried, stress-filled call to the hotel's janitor, telling him to get the building's plumbing sorted out. So far, it seems as if the Heights isn't quite running as smoothly as possible, and I'm starting to understand not only why they've been advertising for a new general manager, but also why they seem to have had no luck hiring someone for the past six months. Glancing around the room, I see that the paint is peeling and there are a few worrying little cracks in the ceiling. The overall impression is of a faded old building whose owners lack the care or money to fix things up.

  Eventually, my eyes fix upon a pair of large paintings over by the reception desk. They look almost identical to one another, both showing men with serious, determined looks in their eyes. Squinting a little, I'm able to read the name plaques under the pictures, which tell me that the man on the left is Victor Bannister and the man on the right is his son Edward. Staring at the second painting, I realize that this is the man I'm here to meet today for the job interview.

  I've never met someone who's been painted in oils before, I think to myself, before being distracted by an ominous groaning and creaking sound from directly above.

  Looking up, I see a set of large pipes running across the ceiling. As I hear something large move through the pipes, I make a mental note that, in the unlikely event that I actually get this job, I'll make sure that the pipes are the first thing to be fixed. Frankly, it sounds as if the entire building is wheezing and groaning. Perhaps the Bannister family should spend less time posing for portraits and more time running their goddamned hotel. The Heights is dying of neglect.

  Elizabeth

  Five years ago

  "So you're the woman who's captured my son's heart, eh?" says Victor Bannister as we walk toward the main building. "I have to say, I never thought I'd see the day".

  "You're embarrassing her, Dad," Luke says, walking behind us as he carries the suitcases. "I've spent the past week convincing her that she won't be smothered to death when she gets here. Try not to let me down, okay?"

  "It's fine," I reply, taking a deep breath of fresh sea air. So far, everything seems to be going well, although it's less than five minutes since we pulled up in the car park. The Heights looks to be a beautiful building, and the scenery around here is stunning. If I was the kind of girl who gets carried away with romantic longing, I'd be in my element. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, I know that life just isn't like this. The more perfect a place or a person seems, the more worried I become, because it means someone's got something to hide.

  "We're going to have a big family dinner," Victor continues. "Nothing too fancy, but it's nice to get everyone together. I'm afraid Luke has been spending more and more time away from the place lately".

  "That might be about to change," Luke says.

  "Oh?" Victor stops and turns to him. "Is there something I should know?"

  "Nothing yet," Luke replies, glancing at me for a moment before turning back to his father. "Don't stress, Dad. You seriously need to relax. Have you been spending too much time with Edward?"

  "You hear that?" Victor asks, smiling as he turns to me. "At my age, he tells me to relax. If I'd said something like that to my father, I'd have received a clip around the ear".

  I smile politely. To be honest, I hadn't expected Luke to have such a good relationship with his father. From the few things he's told me over the past few months, it always seemed as if there are certain strains in the family, to the extent that Luke has seemed keen to avoid coming to the Heights. Now, however, all of that seems to have been washed away, and I'm seeing a new side of Luke. I was determined to hold back and not let myself get too deeply involved with Luke, but I can feel myself falling for him more and more. Is it possible? Have I actually found a good man?

  Laura

  Today

  "So you've worked in the hospitality industry before," says Edward Bannister, studying my CV. He looks exactly like his oil painting: calm and authoritative, with a hint of steel in his eyes. Despite being in his early thirties, he has the studied, serious demeanor of an old-fashioned headmaster, and I can't help wondering if he might bend me over his knee and give me a caning if she give a wrong answer during the interview. "In fact," he continues, raising an eyebrow, "you've worked at some of the most prestigious hotels in London. Whatever makes you want to come down to this part of the country?"

  Sitting in an over-sized leather chair that makes me feel like a munchkin, I take a deep breath. I've prepared for this question, and I have my answer memorized perfectly. "I'm looking for a change of pace," I say, my voice sounding crystal clear and confident. "London was a wonderful experience, but I'm afraid that after a while I felt as if I was trapped in an endless bubble. I wanted something new and fresh, something with a different kind of challenge. Something fresh and..." I pause, losing my way a little. "Well, something fresh".

  "We're never short of 'fresh' around here," Edward replies dourly, turning to the second page of the CV. "If you're looking to hide away from the world, Ms. Kingston, you've come to the right place. Aside from the steady trickle of tourists, we almost never get any visitors here. It's really a very isolated part of the country. Very sparse and barren. One could stand outside the main entrance and scream, and there'd be no-one to hear for many miles".

  "I'm not sure I want to hide," I reply.

  "Or scream, hopefully," he points out, without a hint of a smile.

  Pausing, I take another deep breath. "I just want to start something more permanent. I had offers in London, of course, but I wasn't willing to commit to long-term projects in the middle of the city. That's one of the things that drew me to this opportunity, really. I want to take on a big, long-term challenge that'll allow me to sink my teeth into a proper project, and I want to do it in a more relaxing environment. Start from the ground up, so to speak, and really make a difference".

  "You think this job will be relaxing?" he asks, eying me sceptically.

  "No!" I blurt out. "Not at all! Just... the scenery. It seems like a very relaxing part of the world".

  Smiling awkwardly, I glance over at the third person in the room: sitting silently and showing no sign of movement, an old man watches and listens from his wheelchair. His leathery, liver-spotted face belies great age, and his yellowing eyes stare at me implacably, almost as if he's challenging her to meet his gaze. This, I figure, must be the man from the other painting: Victor Bannister, once a proud man like his son, now apparently confined to a wheelchair. Whereas Edward looks like his painting, Victor looks nothing like his.

  "Please don't let my father disturb you," Edward says, before clearing his throat. "He likes to retain an interest in the day-to-day running of the hotel, but he handed over full control to me a couple of years ago. On my thirtieth birthday, in fact. He merely likes to know what's going on, so he often sits in on my meetings, but the final decisions are mine and mine alone. He's a little set in his ways, and I'm afraid he doesn't entirely agree that it's a good idea to hire someone from outside the family. However, as I've explained to him on many occasions, times are changing and we need to modernize many aspects of the hotel, not least the way it's run".

  I smile cautiously at Victor, but he merely fixes me with an intent stare. It's almost as if he's trying to use force of will to make me evaporate.

  "We're not trying to do away with tradition," Edward continues. "In fact, we value it very much, and we consider it to be one of the core principles of our business. We just see a need to move forward, and for that we need someone who has experience with modern management methods. And that, Ms. Kingston, is where you come in. Or someone like you, at least. Your credentials are very impressive".

  "I've been lucky enough to work with some of the most capable professionals in the industry," I say, turning back to face Edward and returning to my pre-prepared script. "Sometimes I feel that I can't even begin to list everything
I've learned from them over the years. All I know is that I feel ready and able to accept any challenge that's thrown my way".

  "Well," Edward says, setting the CV down, "I have to admit, you're a step above the bunch of yokels who've been applying so far. You might be surprised to learn that this part of the country isn't overflowing with experienced, professional and, if I might add, impressively turned-out applicants such as yourself. Obviously, we offer a comprehensive remuneration package as well as on-site accommodation, although I'm afraid we don't offer any help with relocation costs -"

  "I don't have any relocation costs," I say quickly.

  "Right," Edward replies, looking a little surprised.

  "I mean, I do have relocation costs," I continue, starting to panic a little, "but nothing I can't handle myself". I smile nervously. "It's really not a problem. Everything's in my car".

  "In your car?" Edward asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I nod.

  "Do you... live in your car?"

  "No!" I say, suddenly worrying that I'm coming across as being a little weird. "I mean, I'm not living in my car! That's..." I take another deep breath, trying not to hyperventilate. "That'd be absurd. No, I'm not living in my car at all, I just happen to... um... have all my possessions in there". I force another smile. "For convenience".

  An awkward silence descends upon the room for a moment.

  "I really don't live in my car!" I say eventually, worrying that I've blown the interview. "I don't, I swear!"

  "I'm sure you don't," Edward replies with a smile. "And if you did, well, I certainly wouldn't hold it against you. I don't really care about my staff's private lives, as long as they get their jobs done. To be honest, Ms. Kingston, you're over-qualified for this position, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. There's no point beating around the bush. I'd be delighted to welcome you to the Heights as our new general manager, so there's nothing more for me to say other than that I'm formally offering you the position".

  "Seriously?" I reply, allowing my immense relief to show through for a moment before quickly regathering my composure and assuming a more professional demeanor. "I'd be delighted to accept," I tell him. "I can assure you, you'll never regret your decision, not even for a second".

  "Of course not," Edward says. "I never regret any decision". He turns to the old man in the wheelchair. "Isn't that right, father? Have you ever heard me complain once about any decision that I've made?"

  Unable or unwilling to reply, the old man simply stares at me.

  "When can you start?" Edward asks, getting to his feet. "I'd like to have you on-site as soon as possible, and of course there'll be a short acclimatization period while you -"

  "I can start today," I say, interrupting him. Standing up, she realize that maybe I'm seeming a little too eager. Then again, I have nowhere else to be, so I figure I might as well just get on with things. "I mean, I can start whenever you want me to start, but I'm theoretically available to assume my duties... well, right now, to be honest".

  "Right now?" Edward replies, looking a little surprised.

  "It was just a suggestion," I tell him.

  "Well, I suppose..." He pauses for a moment. "I mean, it's a little sudden. There's normally a formal start date with a settling-in period, though I suppose we've never been sticklers for procedure around here". He glances over at his father. "Why wait if there's no need?"

  The old man shifts slightly in his wheelchair, but he seems to have no opinion on the matter.

  "I guess there's no time like the present," Edward says, leading me over to the door. "I'll have housekeeping make up your accommodation, so if you'd like to wait in reception, you should be able to start getting settled in a few hours. It's probably best if you take the rest of the day to have a look at the place and get used to your surroundings, and then we can start you off properly tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

  "Like a dream," I reply, before turning back to the old man. I want to say something to him, to introduce myself properly, but he seems so distant and remote.

  "He won't bite," Edward says with a smile.

  "It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Bannister," I say, walking across the room until I'm standing in front of the wheelchair. "I hope we can talk some time about the hotel and any advice you might have for me. I know I've got a lot to learn, and I'd love to pick your brains and hear about your ideas".

  The old man narrows his eyes slightly. Now that I'm closer, I can see that his pupils are faintly milky, as if his eyesight was starting to fade.

  "Don't let my father's lack of enthusiasm deter you, Ms. Kingston," Edward continues after a moment. "I'm afraid he's never very friendly to new people, but he'll get use to you eventually. Besides, he's got no choice".

  After staring at me for a few seconds, the old man turns and looks away. It's clear from his body language that he's annoyed about something.

  "He really doesn't talk very much these days," Edward explains, ushering me out the door and into the quiet, carpeted corridor. "To be honest, you won't see him very often. He spends most of his time in the background, and..." Pulling the door shut, he glances both ways along the corridor for a moment, as if he's checking that we're alone. "Please don't be too concerned about my father," he continues. "He's got a lot on his mind. My brother is shipping out to Afghanistan this afternoon, so naturally there are a few extra tensions".

  "I'm sorry," I say, "I didn't know..."

  "It's fine," Edward says, keeping his voice low. "Actually, it's one of the reasons why we're keen to bring in an outsider to help run the hotel. I'm afraid things can become a little tense when it's a family affair. My father believes that the hotel should be run solely by members of the Bannister family, and he views your hiring as a sign of weakness. I've tried to dissuade him from such old-fashioned ideas, but unfortunately he's very stubborn. I hope you won't take his prejudice as a personal criticism of your work. It's just that he's too old to change. He's really just waiting to die".

  I open my mouth to reply, but I'm not quite sure what to say in response to such a blunt comment. "I won't let you down," I say after a moment. "I promise, you won't regret hiring me".

  "Welcome to the team," Edward says, shaking my hand firmly. "I hope your time at the Heights will be long and rewarding. I don't mind telling you, I feel this could be the start of a whole new era".

  Elizabeth

  Five years ago

  "Well, this could be the start of a new era," says Victor, as our wine glasses are topped up. "I'd like to propose a toast to Elizabeth. My dear, I hope this is only the first of many evenings in your company at our humble hotel".

  Trying not to blush, I smile as we clink our glasses together. We're sitting in the hotel restaurant, in a special section that has been cordoned off tonight for family members. As well as Victor and Luke, there's also Luke's younger sister Juliet, who seems so far to be a polite and quiet girl. Next to her, there's an empty seat for Luke's other sibling, Edward, who so far is running late.

  "You've all made me feel very welcome," I say, taking a sip of wine. Frankly, I keep expecting to wake up and find that this is all a dream. Everything seems perfect so far, and I'm still convinced that perfection doesn't really exist.

  "I hope we haven't overdone it," Victor replies. "To be honest, we don't get many visitors. Apart from paying guests, of course".

  "I'm sorry about Edward," Luke says, clearly a little perturbed by his brother's no-show. "I'm sure he'll be here soon".

  "It's fine," I reply. "He's just busy".

  "He's a rude asshole," Luke replies, and for the first time since we got here this weekend, there's a hint of anger in his voice. "His office is literally about two minutes down the corridor. He could at least show his face".

  "Your brother has been very stressed lately," Victor interjects. "Don't be too hard on him. You know what he's like. When he -"

  "Let's not ruin things by talking about Edward," Luke says firmly, raising his glass for
another toast. "Let's focus on the people who are here. I swear, this is the first night I've enjoyed at home for a long time".

  Smiling politely, I can't help but notice that Luke's mood seems to have changed a little since Edward's name was brought up in conversation. That little comment about not having enjoyed his time at home seems to have been directed at Victor, and it's pretty clear that there are some deep undercurrents flowing through this family. I guess I was right after all. There's definitely no such thing as perfection.

  Laura

  Today

  Sitting on a bench just outside the hotel's main entrance, I find myself lost in thought as I watch the calm blue sea twinkle under the bright sky. I guess I'm struggling to adjust to the idea that, for now at least, this is going to be my home. Having grown up in the suburbs and then moved to work in the heart of the city itself, I've never known a place quite like the Heights, not even on the few holidays my family were able to afford. It feels like I've been transported to another world, and the peace and quiet make it much easier for me to imagine myself becoming an entirely new person. That's what I want, really. I want to change completely.

  Taking a deep breath of fresh air, I close my eyes and listen to the sounds all around me: tourists traipse along gravel paths as they head down to one of the nearby bays; in the distance, there's the sound of waves rolling to shore; up above, seagulls arc and wheel, occasionally cawing as they spot something that grabs their attention; and somewhere nearby, a phone is ringing.

  "Shit!" I say, suddenly realizing that it's my phone. I fumble through my pockets until finally I find the flashing little screen and see that it's my friend Hayley who's trying to get in touch. For a moment, I consider not answering, but finally I tap the screen and accept the call.

 

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