by Sherri Bryan
Chapter 16
As was often the case in small towns, gossip spread quickly, reaching the ears of maximum townsfolk with the minimum of delay.
It was fortunate for him that local news reporter, Andrew Somerfield, was one of the first people to hear that Gordon Buckingham and his sister, Lara, would be arriving in St. Eves the following day, and staying at The President Hotel, courtesy of Olivia Floyd-Martin. He’d missed out on interviewing Gordon in his home, so he was determined to get in first on this story.
Thanks to a nosey hotel porter, whom he rewarded generously in exchange for interesting tip-offs or juicy gossip, Andrew already knew what rooms Gordon and his sister would be staying in, along with Gordon’s home telephone number, which he'd just called to ask if he'd be willing to give an exclusive TV interview during his stay in St. Eves, in return for a substantial fee.
Gordon had been reluctant at first, but Andrew had used all his persuasive skills to secure a meeting with him at half-past three the following day, in the Garden Lounge Bar of the hotel.
Andrew had also suggested it would be a huge coup if they managed to get Olivia to participate in the interview, although Gordon had told him he’d have to think about that.
Andrew sat back and put his feet up on the desk. If this interview didn’t get him the title of News Reporter of the Year at the local press awards dinner, he didn’t know what would.
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“Well, this is very nice, I must say,” said Gordon, as he settled himself on a plush armchair in the reception area of The President Hotel.
“And so it flippin’ well should be,” said Lara, determined not to enjoy herself. “I only came so it would cost Olivia more.” She pulled at the collar of her polyester blouse and gawped at the luxurious surroundings. “You know we’re going to look like the poor relations while we’re here, don’t you? I’m sure people are looking down their noses at us already.”
“Oh, why can’t you stop complaining and enjoy it?” said Gordon. “We’ve never had someone treat us to anything like this before, so why can’t you just relax and have a good time? If it makes you feel better, you can hate Olivia if you like, but why wouldn’t you want to make the most of being here?” He waved a hand expansively in front of him. “Just look at it, it’s beautiful.” He took a deep breath and a smile spread across his pale face. “Even the air smells different.”
“Mr. and Ms. Buckingham?” Simon Clancy appeared, followed by a hotel porter. “I’m Simon Clancy, the Hotel Manager. I trust you had a comfortable journey?” He shook hands and indicated they should follow him. “Please, let me show you to your rooms.”
“Is it right that everything’s paid for?” asked Lara, sceptically, as they waited for the lift. “We were told it would be, but I doubt it actually is. I’m only asking because I don’t want a nasty surprise of a huge bill when we check out because we had something we thought was included, but wasn’t.”
Simon nodded. “Absolutely everything will be taken care of. That includes 24 hour a day room service, all spa treatments, use of the gym, sauna, hot tub, indoor and outdoor pools, breakfast, lunch, dinner and drinks in our rooftop restaurant, any drinks or bar snacks you may have during your stay in our ground floor Garden Lounge Bar, any films you watch in your room, full use of the minibar and, of course,” he swiped the room key and flung open the door, “your suites, with south-facing balconies and sea views. This is Mr. Buckingham’s room, but yours is just on the other side of the adjoining door.”
Lara’s jaw dropped. The huge rooms were light, airy and beautifully decorated, with soft furnishings in neutral colours and an enormous bouquet of orchids on each of the walnut sideboards. She walked through into her room, stroking the bedspread and curtains, feeling the crisp bed linen, the softness of the towels and the deep-pile rugs beneath her feet.
“If there’s anything you need,” said Simon, handing her a room key, “please just dial 0 and call down to reception. And Mr. Buckingham, I understand from Olivia that you might be interested in a tour of the hotel kitchens? She said she thought you might appreciate it, particularly the kitchen in our rooftop restaurant, which is state of the art.”
Gordon’s eyes shone. “Olivia knows me too well—I most certainly would appreciate it. You just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”
“Excellent,” said Simon. “Would now be convenient for you? After you’ve had some time to settle in, of course.”
Gordon replied with an enthusiastic nod. “That’s perfect. I’m meeting someone this afternoon, so that suits me fine. It shouldn’t take too long, should it?”
“Half an hour at the most,” said Simon. “How about I meet you in the Garden Lounge Bar downstairs in about half an hour?”
“I’ll be there.”
Simon gave them both the benefit of the smarmy smile he’d been perfecting for years. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. See you shortly, Mr. Buckingham.”
“Oh my, God!” Lara called from her room. “Gordon, have you seen the bathrooms? They’re almost as big as your house and mine put together!”
She pushed open the floor to ceiling glass door and stepped onto the covered balcony to take in the view. Gordon was right. The air did smell different.
She went back into his room to find him hunting through his suitcase.
“What are you looking for?”
“My swimming shorts. After I’ve seen the kitchens, you don’t think I’m going to sit up here in the room for two days, do you? Come on, woman, get your cossie on! Didn’t you hear what Mr. Clancy said about the spa, the sauna, the hot tub, and the pools?”
Lara grinned as she dragged her swimming costume out of the case. “Here, look, there’s a card on these flowers.” She flicked it open and read the message.
“Who’re they from?”
“Who d’you think?”
“Olivia?”
“Yes. Olivia.”
“What does it say?”
Lara pursed her lips and opened the card again. “It says, ‘Hi Gordon and Lara, I hope you like the rooms. I wish you a very happy couple of days. Best wishes, Olivia.’” She shook her head. “Honestly, what a suck-up. It’s so obvious she’s done this to get into our good books. When is she going to get it through her thick head that nothing will make up for what she did. No amount of crawling around you is going to make things any better, no matter how much money she throws at us.”
“Good God, Lara, you’re a hard woman to appease at times,” said Gordon. “Olivia knows she did wrong and she knows she can’t ever put things right, but she’s trying to make amends the best way she knows how. Whatever you may think, I think this is a pretty nice gesture.”
Lara scoffed. “So it bloody well should be.” She picked up the menu for the rooftop restaurant from the sideboard. “And I’m going to make the most of it. For dinner tonight, I’m having caviar to start, with lobster to follow, white chocolate soufflé decorated with gold leaf, and the most expensive bottle of champagne they have to wash it down with.”
“You don’t even like caviar,” said Gordon.
“I do if Olivia Floyd-Martin’s paying for it,” said Lara. “Even if I don’t eat it, I’m ordering it. Listen, Gordon, I’ve wanted to get my own back on that woman for years, and this is my opportunity; I’m going to get my money’s worth while I’m here, you just see if I don’t. There’s going to be a big hole in her bank account by the time I’m finished. Now hurry up and get your boring tour of the kitchens over and done with; there’s a spa downstairs and I can hear it calling!”
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Andrew Somerfield knew exactly what time Gordon Buckingham and his sister had arrived that morning; at just before quarter-to ten; that Simon Clancy had given Gordon a tour of the kitchens, and that he and his sister had signed in at the spa half an hour after that, leaving there two hours later to visit the Garden Lounge Bar for lunch.
Andrew checked his watch. It was twenty-past three.
He spotted Gord
on and Lara immediately. They were the couple who were well on their way to getting drunk, and ordering drinks for the rest of the guests in the bar. He grinned as he imagined the look on Olivia Floyd-Martin’s face when she was presented with their final bill.
He’d been told on many occasions that it was his boyish charm people responded to, so he made sure it was turned up to maximum as he strode into the bar.
“Mr. and Ms. Buckingham? I’m Andrew Somerfield. Nice to meet you.”
Lara put down the cocktail she was drinking. “You won’t tell Olivia how much of her money we’re spending, will you?” she said, with a giggle, her guard coming up a little.
Andrew chuckled. “No, not at all. My only interest is securing an exclusive with you as a follow-up to Mr. Buckingham’s recent interview in The Sunday Herald. It’ll go out on TV on this evening’s local news as the lead story.”
“Ooh, I didn’t know it was going to be the lead story,” said Lara, as she picked up her drink again and pulled a glacé cherry off a cocktail stick with her teeth. “How exciting.”
Andrew smiled and turned to Gordon. “Did you think any more about asking Olivia to participate in the interview? As I explained yesterday, I could negotiate a little more for you if she did.”
Gordon nodded. “Actually, I called her about it last night, after I’d spoken to you. As I guessed, she wasn’t too keen on the idea, but when I explained it would give her the opportunity to put her side of the story across, she was a bit more receptive. She said she’d have to think about it, though, so I told her I’d call her again today to see what she’d decided.” He scratched his head through the strands of wispy hair. “I have to say, she didn’t sound very comfortable with the idea at all.”
Lara swatted him on the arm. “Gordon, who cares whether she’s comfortable with it or not? If Mr. Somerfield’s willing to give us some more money in exchange for Olivia saying a few words, I’m sure it can be arranged. Go on, go and call her now and see if she’s made up her mind. And if she says no, talk her round. Goodness knows, she owes you a favour.”
As Gordon shuffled off, Lara reached across and pulled over a chair for Andrew. She patted the seat. “Why don’t you come and sit down and you can tell me all about our fee?”
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“Did you speak to her?” Lara demanded to know as soon as Gordon came back into the bar.
He nodded. “She’ll do it, but she’s not very happy about it—I told you she wouldn’t be. She didn’t do all this for us because she wanted it splattered all over the evening news, she did it because she wanted to do something to go some way in making up for the past.”
“But she agreed to meet?” said Andrew.
Gordon nodded. “She didn’t want to come here, though, so she suggested we meet in the park. There’s a statue with some benches nearby, apparently? Is that okay?”
“Suits me, and I know exactly where she means,” said Andrew. “It’s usually quiet there at this time of day, which is good when you’re doing an OB; sorry, that’s an outside broadcast. Otherwise you get people walking in front of the camera, behind the camera, waving hello to their mum, etc., etc., you know what I mean? Right, I’ve got a cameraman on standby, so give me five minutes to give him a call and get him over to the park. Then we can leave. Is that okay with you both?”
Lara nodded, and squealed excitedly. “I just need a few minutes to go and freshen up my makeup. I don’t want to look like an old frump if I’m going to be a TV star!”
____________
As Olivia dragged her feet through the park, she started to seriously rethink her part in the interview.
She was still a main suspect in Roman Haley’s murder, and tensions were running high among his fans, many of whom were harassing her on a daily basis via social media.
She should be keeping a low profile, not appearing on TV with the man from her past to whom she’d caused such serious injuries, telling viewers how she was making amends by treating him and his sister to a mini-break in a posh hotel.
She’d had enough criticism lately; she didn’t need to do anything that would put her in the firing line for any more.
Damn it! I’m not doing it. When I get there, I’m going to tell Gordon I’ve changed my mind.
As she approached the meeting place, she saw Gordon, Lara, Andrew and a cameraman waiting on a couple of park benches.
She saw Gordon turn and raise his arm in a wave. She lifted her arm to wave back, then turned as a sudden movement drew her eye to the clump of trees to her left.
The last thing she saw was a dark mass heading towards her and then… darkness.
Chapter 17
“Olivia. Olivia. Olivia! Oh, thank God. Doctor, she’s opened her eyes.”
Olivia closed them again and groaned. “My head’s killing me.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Charlotte. “You’ve got a lump on it the size of an egg.”
“Glad to see you back with us, Olivia,” said the doctor. “I’d like to do a quick examination.” He turned to Charlotte. “If you could wait outside, please?”
She sat down on a hard chair in the corridor.
She was only at the hospital because her number had shown on Olivia’s phone as a regularly called number, and a nurse had contacted her to ask if she could come to collect her.
“It would be better if she didn’t walk or drive anywhere, or be on her own for the rest of the day, possibly tomorrow, too,” the nurse had said. “She needs rest and sleep, so if you could make sure she gets home safely, that would be wonderful, and if there’s anyone who could stay with her – just to keep an eye on her - that would be great.”
Charlotte knew Olivia’s parents didn’t live too far away, but they owned a smallholding which was difficult for them to leave at short notice. In any case, Olivia was always telling her that, after five minutes in each other’s company, she and her mum drove each other up the wall. Plus, she didn’t like to worry them.
Charlotte sighed. Who else could keep an eye on her? There was only one person she knew of, but she wasn’t sure how her husband would take the news.
The doctor poked his head around the door. “You can come back in now.”
Olivia was lying on top of the bed with a hand over her eyes. “Is that you, Charlotte?”
“Yes, it’s me. How are you feeling?”
Olivia looked at her through barely open eyelids. “Like someone put my head in a vice. When I said I had a feeling my life was about to change, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind. What the hell happened? The doctor said I’ve got a mild concussion.”
“You were hit on the forehead by a rock,” said the doctor.
“A flippin’ big one, too,” said Charlotte. “It was on the ground next to you, so Andrew Somerfield showed it to the paramedics in case they needed to see what had caused the injury.”
Olivia closed her eyes again. “I remember. I turned round because I saw something moving in the trees. Then something was coming towards me and that was that.”
“You were very lucky you weren’t hit on the side of your head; on the temple,” said the doctor. “If you had been, this story could have had a very different ending indeed. You should think yourself lucky.”
Olivia opened her eyes as wide as she could and glared at him. “Oh, yeah, I feel really lucky. I’ve got a splitting headache, I feel like throwing up, and I’ve got a lump on my head that’s almost as big as my actual head. And the room won’t stop spinning, even with my eyes closed. It’s like the worst hangover ever.”
The doctor returned her glare with a stern look. “I’m not sure you realise how serious this could have been. If an impact of this force had been just a couple of inches to the left, you could have been killed; most definitely seriously injured. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to see.” He put her chart in the cubby hole above the bed, his white coat swishing against his trousers as he walked quickly from the room.
“Did Gordon’s interview
go ahead without me?” said Olivia.
“Of course it didn’t! It didn’t go ahead at all. And after you’d been carted off in the ambulance, Gordon and Lara checked out of the hotel and went home.”
“Oh no! They were supposed to be enjoying themselves.” Olivia picked balls of fluff from the blanket and scowled. “I must be jinxed. The last time I agreed to something I didn’t want to do, Roman kicked the bucket, and now this. I should have refused to take part in Andrew’s stupid interview from the start. Then Gordon would still be here, and I wouldn’t have the headache from hell.”
“You might have a headache, but at least you’re alive,” said Charlotte. “The doctor’s right; you are lucky.”
“Huh, it’s alright for you to say that,” mumbled Olivia. “You haven’t got someone trying to bump you off.”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“Why else would someone throw a bloody great rock at my head, and try to poison me?”
The thought that someone had been trying to deliberately do Olivia harm hadn’t even entered Charlotte’s mind—until now.
“Think about it,” said Olivia. “If I hadn’t walked out of the tasting session, I would have eaten some of that poisoned bread because Roman and I would have shared everything. It was no secret I’d been invited, because he announced it at the library roof fundraiser; The Herald did a write up on it, remember? And if I hadn’t turned my head when I was walking through the park, I wouldn’t be lying here talking to you. It’s pretty obvious to me that someone’s trying to do me in.”
“Well, it’s possible, I suppose,” said Charlotte, being careful not to say anything that might make Olivia even more worried than she already was. “Are you sure you’re not being paranoid, though? Especially about the rock. I’d have thought it’s more likely to have been kids mucking around, rather than someone lurking in the undergrowth, waiting for you to walk past. I’m not excusing them if it was, I just mean that it might have been a random attack, rather than you being singled out deliberately. Think about it, who could possibly have known you’d be walking through the park at that precise time?”