by Amy Cross
"And why's that?"
"Because she was wearing it!" I shout.
He turns to me with a look of exasperation in his eyes.
"She was wearing it," I say again, "so how could it still be here? How..." My voice trails off as I start to realize what this means. Looking down at the dress, which Cole still has in his hands, I feel a cold, dark feeling start to spread through my chest. "If Rachel had the dress," I say eventually, "then that must mean..."
We stand in silence for a moment.
"Where did she get it?" I ask finally, even though I'm scared of the possible answers.
"Rachel Carter didn't kill Elizabeth," Cole says after a moment. "Trust me. There's just no way. And if she did, why would she keep her dress and then decide to give it to you?" He waits for me to answer. "This is all just some kind of sick joke," he says eventually. "Someone wanted to send a message. Rachel might have been a bitch, but she wasn't a murderer".
"You don't know that," I reply. "You don't even know for certain that this is Elizabeth's dress. Maybe it's just one that looks like hers?"
"I can smell her perfume," he says. "On the dress. On you, now. After all these years. It's hers".
"It might not be -"
"It's hers!" he says again, more firmly this time. "Stop grasping for straws".
"But if it's hers," I say slowly, trying to make sense of everything, "that means..."
"It doesn't mean anything," he replies.
"But if she was wearing the dress when she disappeared," I continue, "and now the dress has shown up, she can't have left the Heights, can she? She must have..." I pause as I realize what I'm saying. If Elizabeth didn't leave the hotel, there's only one other possible explanation.
"She's not dead," Cole says. "I don't care what other crazy theories you come up with, but I'm telling you right now, Elizabeth Bannister is not dead".
"Of course not," I mutter, even though deep down I'm convinced that someone must have murdered her. The only logical explanation for any of this is that Elizabeth was killed, and Rachel somehow knew or found out who was responsible. There was always a hint of sadness in Rachel's eyes, and it's not hard to believe that perhaps she was weighed down by the burden of some kind of dark secret. After all, her suicide note apparently said something about being weighed down by guilt. "Maybe she didn't jump," I say eventually.
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe Rachel didn't jump from the cliff. Maybe she was pushed".
"Are you kidding me?" He stares at me as if I'm crazy. "Of course she jumped. She even left a note. The police looked into the whole thing and said there was no doubt at all! You said yourself that there was something strange about her".
"Just because she was strange," I reply, "doesn't mean she was suicidal. It's got to be a possibility, right?"
"So you think she stumbled onto the truth about Elizabeth's disappearance and someone decided to get rid of her?" He pauses for a moment. "I know what you really think. You think I'm wrong, and that Elizabeth's dead. You think I'm just refusing to face facts. You've been here for less than a month and you already think you understand everything that's going on around this place".
"It's not that -"
"I can feel it," he says firmly. "Call me insane if you want, but I can feel it in my heart. If she'd been killed, I'd know. I'd have felt it, I'd have..." His voice trails off, and it's clear from the edge of frustration in his voice that he knows his words sound hollow. "I'd know," he adds eventually. "Okay? I'd just know".
Standing in front of me, holding the old dress in his hands, he cuts a sad and dispiriting figure, and although I want to reassure him, I can't bring myself to utter false promises. It's clear that Cole's sentiments are based not on logic but on a kind of senseless panic, as if the dress has put the fear of God into him. There's no point trying to argue with him, either, since he's obviously desperate to believe that Elizabeth is still out there somewhere. Despite the reappearance of the dress, I don't want to be the one who makes Cole see the truth.
"I don't know how this dress ended up here," he says after a moment, his voice trembling as he tries to stay strong, "and I don't know what it means, but I'm certain of one thing. Elizabeth Bannister is still alive. If she was dead, I'd feel it. If you think I'm crazy and insane, then that's fine, think what you want, but I know the truth and I know that I'm right. Even if she never comes back, and even if I never see her again and I never hear from her, I know that she's alive. And there's nothing that you or anyone can do or say to change my mind".
"And you'll still wait for her," I say. "Just in case she turns up?"
"How many other people know about this dress?" he asks, changing the subject.
"No-one," I reply. "Just us".
"Keep it that way. The last thing you want to do is re-open that can of worms". He looks down at the dress for a moment. "This damn thing won't see the light of day again. If anyone asks me about it, I'll deny everything. I swear to God, I'll call you a liar if necessary. Do you understand?"
I nod.
"Just forget this happened," he adds.
"I need to get back to work," I say. "I can't just stand here all day arguing with you about a dress".
"Then it's settled," he replies. He pauses for a moment, and finally a look of shock crosses his face.
"What's wrong?" I ask, forcing a nervous smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. Waiting for him to say something, I can't help feeling that he seems to have almost completely shut down. "You okay?" I continue. "Cole?"
"I..." Staring straight at me, he's clearly lost for words, as if he's realized something that has shocked him to his core. "I get it," he says finally. "Those sick bastards..."
"What?" I ask. "What do you get?"
"I need to..." He pauses again.
"Cole?" I wait for an answer. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Cole. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"I have to go," he mutters, turning and hurrying away.
"Wait!" I call after him, but it's too late and I'm left standing alone, trying to work out what the hell just made him act like that. It's as if something shocked him so completely, he was unable to even process the information. Sighing, I turn and head back through to the bar. I guess I don't really have time to deal with every little problem that a member of the hotel's staff manages to develop. Cole's bound to figure out whatever's bugging him eventually. I just hope he pulls himself together before he becomes a gibbering wreck. Until then, I've got more than enough to deal with, starting with the plan to renovate the hotel. By the time I'm finished, this place is going to be unrecognizable.
Elizabeth
Five years ago
"Got it?"
Nodding, I finish pouring the pint before placing it on the bar and taking a step back. I pause for a moment, admiring the finished order as if it's a thing of wonder, almost like I'm a painter who's just completed her first canvas. I know it's kind of pathetic to be proud of something as simple as pouring a drink, but it's my first task as a new employee at the bar, and so far things seem to be going okay.
"Not bad," Cole says, walking around the pint as if he's analyzing it carefully. "Not overflowing. A good head. Good color, although that's not really in your control". He pauses. "I think we'll make a bar worker out of you yet. Believe it or not, there's actually some skill involved in pouring the perfect pint. You can't just drag any old idiot off the streets and get them to do it".
"You think it's perfect?" I ask.
"I didn't say that". He smiles. "It's as close as a newbie's gonna get, so well done. Now I have another task for you".
"Pour spirits?"
He shakes his head.
"Cocktails?" I ask, excited at the prospect of getting into something really complicated.
He shakes his head again.
"Mixers?"
"Wiping," he replies, smiling as he tosses a cloth at me. "There are ninety-five tables in this bar. Most of them haven't been used for a while, but they all need
cleaning".
"No problem," I say enthusiastically, grabbing a bowl and starting to fill it with soapy water. I feel torn between feeling proud of myself for having an actual, real job, and feeling a little dumb for being so pleased with how well I'm doing. Still, working behind a bar clearly isn't the easiest job in the world, and everyone has to start somewhere. "So how many customers do we normally get in a day?" I ask as I start wiping the nearest table.
"On a busy day, maybe a dozen," he replies.
"Is that all?"
"That's all. Occasionally, we even have a day when no-one comes in".
"Sometimes I wonder how this place makes money," I reply. "It's so empty".
"The Bannisters are stuck in their ways," Cole says as he wipes the beer taps. "When business is slow, they think it's because the world is too fast and uncaring. They never stop to look at their business practices and wonder whether they could make any improvements. I swear, if it wasn't for the fact that they're loaded, this place would go under in a day".
"Someone should wrestle the Heights into the twenty-first century," I mutter.
"Good luck with that".
"I'll get there eventually," I reply.
"Seriously? You think you can change the way they do things?"
"Eventually". I move to the next table. "This place needs some serious work. Not just a new coat of paint, but a proper period of refurbishment. They need to shut it down for a few months and really transform it".
"Careful," he replies. "I really don't want to be out of a job".
"You know what I mean. They need some ambition. They need someone to light a fire under their asses and push this place forward, and I think I can be that person. I didn't just come here to stand around and start pumping out babies. When I married Luke, I thought I was going to become a part of his life, and I'm pretty sure the best way to do that is to take an active role in the day-to-day running of the hotel. I'm going to show him why he should never underestimate me".
"I admire your chutzpah," Cole replies.
"I'm not going to be swept into the corner and told to be a good little girl," I reply. "Sure, it's going to take me longer than I'd hoped, but I'm going to transform this place. I think Edward's on my side".
"Ouch," he says.
"Ouch?"
"Edward's on his own side," he continues. "No-one else's. Trust me, Edward Bannister can't be trusted".
"I like him," I say. "I think he's misunderstood. Luke acts like he's this emotionless asshole, but there's more to him. He's deeper. Sometimes I wonder if he's in pain".
"You don't know him properly yet. The guy's slippery. He and Luke are involved in this big tussle that's been going on since they were kids. It's ridiculous, but it's what they like to do, and old Victor doesn't care enough to stop them". He pauses, and suddenly he looks a little worried. "Just be careful, okay?" he adds. "When Edward and Luke really get going, they lose sight of everything and everyone around them. It's not good to get caught up in their crap".
"You make them sound like children," I point out.
"They're more dangerous than that. I'm just saying you should try not to get in the middle of one of their arguments".
Moving to the next table, I feel my arms starting to ache. Two tables down, ninety-three to go, and suddenly I'm starting to see that working in the bar is going to be hard. Still, I made this choice, and I'm going to stick to it.
"I warned you it's not all fun in here," Cole says with a smile. "Bored yet?"
"I don't mind being bored," I tell him.
"Sometimes," he continues, "I think that's the surest sign of true love. Finding someone you can be happy with, even when you're bored".
I smile, and for a moment we seem to be locked into a strange silence. It's as if there's something we both want to say, but neither of us is ready.
"I'll be in the kitchen," he says a little awkwardly. "Cleaning".
With that, he heads through the door behind the bar, leaving me to carry on with the tables. All I want right now is to just stop thinking. I feel as if I've got too many conflicting thoughts rushing through my mind, and I need to take a break. Finally, thanks to the rhythm of the cleaning work, I manage to zone out completely, and for a few blissful minutes all my worries seem to drift away.
Laura
Today
"So it's settled," Edward says, staring at the print-out. "The hotel will close in one week's time, and then there'll be three months of restoration and renovation work". He pauses for a moment, almost as he's a little overwhelmed by the scale of the project. "After all these years of thinking about such things," he continues, "it's hard to believe that it's finally happening. If you hadn't come to the Heights, Laura, we'd probably have delayed everything forever. This is your work. You're really making your mark".
I smile awkwardly. To be honest, the more he goes on about this whole project being my idea, the more I feel the crushing weight of expectation on my shoulders. With Edward having just authorized the use of more than ten million pounds for the job, I can't help feeling that the entire fate of the hotel, as well as the fate of the Bannister family, is now my responsibility. What if I've got everything wrong? What if the changes don't help the hotel? What if I end up destroying the Heights?
"You look troubled," Edward continues, smiling at me. "Nervous?" Opening a drawer in his desk, he pulls out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "I prefer not to go to the bar," he says as he pours us each a measure. "However, I hope you'll share a drink with me to celebrate the hotel's bright future?"
"Sure," I reply, eying the bottle suspiciously. I don't think I've ever drunk a shot of whiskey in isolation: one always leads to two, which leads to three, which leads to a whole lot more and eventually I end up... Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. After all, I've got more self-control these days. I can handle a quick drink.
"To the Heights," Edward says, passing me a glass, "and its new leash of life".
"I've got to admit," I reply, after taking a sip, "I didn't expect you to back me so fully. I thought that at most you'd cherry-pick a few of my suggestions and try them out first".
"It takes a lot to get me to commit to an idea," he replies, "but when I do, I go all out. There's no point holding back. We've taken baby-steps for years, patching up a room here or a corridor there, but the time has come to drag this place into the twenty-first century. We had a chance to modernize a few years ago, and we retreated. Fortunately, we have this second chance. I have to say, I'm very excited to see what the Heights will look like once everything is completed. It's hard to believe that the old building is finally going to get a facelift". He finishes his glass of whiskey. "More?"
"I..." Looking down at my glass, I feel my inner resolve start to collapse. "Sure," I say brightly, even though I know it's probably a mistake. As Edward refills my glass, I remind myself once again to be careful. "I hope the staff will be okay," I say after a moment. "I mean, most of them are going to be out of work for three months. What are they going to do?"
"They'll find other jobs," he replies. "Most of them are rather disposable, and I've been waiting for an opportunity to get rid of some of the dead wood. There's little point updating the hotel if we still have most of the same idiotic locals messing things up. I'm going to see about bringing in some new staff from a little further afield. People with a more worldly view, to match our new identity".
"But you'll keep some of the people on, right?" I ask. "Like, Cole in the bar -"
"He'll be the first one to get the chop," Edward says quickly. "You've seen what things are like here. The bar's dead half the time. I'm thinking of bringing in some specialist staff from Bristol, so we can really kick-start the place and make it more lively. You said yourself that the atmosphere around here can be quite staid".
I pause, realizing that I might have inadvertently managed to get rid of Cole's job.
"Don't worry," Edward continues, "we'll have much better people working for us by the time this whole proje
ct is finished. In fact, apart from the pair of us, I imagine it'll be an almost completely new workforce. Some of the old farts around here have been working at the Heights since I was a child. They're stuck in their ways, and no amount of training is ever going to fix the problem. These people aren't cut out for the demands of the new Heights. Cole's a perfect example. He'll be fine working in a local pub, but he just can't handle the kind of place we're going to build here. Besides, the man has an unhealthy fixation with certain aspects of the hotel's past. It'll be good to move him along".
"Yes," I say, "but maybe during the transition period -"
"Let me show you something," Edward says, interrupting me as he gets to his feet and walks over to the window. "Laura, please. Come and take a look at the view".
Putting my glass of whiskey down, I head over to the window. Looking out across the gardens, with a blue sea rippling in the distance, I realize how lucky I am to be down here in such a wild and untamed part of the country. The city was destroying me, yet here everything's so calm and peaceful.
"This place should sell itself," Edward says after a moment. "When people come here, they should be struck dumb by the beauty. And that's the most important thing to remember. This is a beautiful place, Laura, and it's filled with beautiful people". Pausing, he turns to me. "It's only right that we should try to emphasize the beauty that's all around us, don't you think?"
"I've always lived in cities," I continue. "I know some people love that kind of lifestyle, but I find it suffocating. All that pollution and noise... I've always wanted to come to a place like this, but I never managed to get things together before".
"And now you're here," he says, staring at me.
I smile.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he says after a moment.
"Sure," I say, feeling a little nervous.
"It's something rather personal," he continues. "Is that okay?"
I nod.
"It's..." He pauses. "Actually, I don't think it's something that can be put into words. I think it can only be explained through actions". Leaning closer, he tilts his head slightly to one side and finally he places his lips against mine. It's not a kiss, exactly; it's more a moment of contact, as his skin touches mine, and I can feel the tension as he tries to decide whether to go further.