Up Close and Personal (6 page)

‘Don’t worry, babe, it’ll soon dry out.’

Juliet dropped the curtain and gave a little shiver. ‘What were you thinking of anyway, opening the window? It’s blowing a gale out there.’

‘
I wanted to get some fresh air; this room smells as if it’s been shut up for ages.’ Dante stood up and walked over to his wife. ‘What’s wrong? Is this place off-limits?’

Juliet shook her head. ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ she said in a calmer tone. ‘It’s just that this was Gus’s special room. I’ve hardly used it since he died; it holds too many memories.’

What do you expect, when you haven’t even cleared his things out? The place is like some kind of grisly shrine.
Dante pushed the thoughts aside. ‘Nathan’s such a jerk, telling me to come in here,’ he said gruffly. ‘He must’ve known it would upset you.’

‘I’m sure he meant well.’ Juliet hooked her arm through Dante’s and led him back to the Chesterfield. ‘Sorry if I overreacted. I didn’t expect to find you in here, that’s all. Why don’t you finish your breakfast?’

‘Do you miss him?’ Dante said. It was a question he’d been dying to ask Juliet since the first night he’d met her.

‘Who?’ Juliet said as she sat down beside him.

‘Gus.’

A slight hesitation. ‘Sometimes.’ She rested her head on his shoulder. ‘But I’ve got you now, haven’t I?’

Dante stroked the side of her face with his fingertips. ‘And, believe me, I feel like the luckiest guy alive.’

She reached up and wrapped her fingers round his. ‘Are you starting to feel at home here? I know it must be hard for you …’

Dante didn’t get a chance to answer, because at that moment the door burst open and one of the chambermaids ran into the room, skidding to a halt in front of the Chesterfield. ‘Oh, Mrs Fisher!’ she cried. ‘Thank fuck I’ve found you.’

‘
I do wish you’d knock first, Leah,’ Juliet said wearily. ‘And we can do without the swearing, thank you.’

The chambermaid took a few hiccuping breaths. ‘Sorry, Mrs Fisher, but it’s an emergency.’

Juliet arched her eyebrows. Leah was prone to exaggeration. Only last week, she’d claimed to have seen a rat the size of a terrier in one of the outhouses. ‘What sort of emergency?’

‘It’s Mr Weinberger, the American bloke who arrived yesterday.’

‘What about him?’

‘There’s water pouring through the ceiling in his room.’

Juliet turned pale. ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’

‘I’m not. Apparently it’s coming from a dodgy pipe in the room above. Reg is up there now trying to fix it.’

‘And where’s Mr Weinberger?’ Juliet asked, the panic evident in her voice.

Leah shrugged. ‘Dunno. Last time I saw him he was rampaging down the first-floor corridor like a rhinoceros with a red-hot poker up its arse.’

‘Why on earth didn’t you apologize and escort him to another room?’

Leah scowled. ‘’Snot my job.’

Suddenly a portly figure in a paisley silk dressing gown appeared in the entrance hall behind Leah. His brushy eyebrows were knitted together in fury and his complexion was a worrying shade of aubergine.

‘Ah, Mr Weinberger,’ Juliet said, nudging Leah aside as she moved towards her irate guest. ‘I hear there’s a small problem with your room.’

‘Small!’ the man growled. ‘If you think waking up to find
your bed drenched in water constitutes a small problem, I’d sure as hell like to know what your idea of a big one is.’

‘You’re quite right,’ Juliet said quickly. ‘I’m so sorry for this dreadful inconvenience, Mr Weinberger. We’ll move you to another room right away.’

The man seemed unmoved by her apology. ‘What kind of half-assed establishment are you running here?’ he said in a loud voice. ‘The plumbing sucks, the towels are too small, the staff are incompetent.’ He stamped on the floor with his slippered foot. ‘
And
my mattress is lumpy.’ As his voice reverberated around the entrance hall, another guest appeared at the top of the stairs and looked over the balustrade, curious to see what the kerfuffle was about.

Juliet took Mr Weinberger’s arm and tried to lead him in the direction of the dining room. ‘Why don’t you come and have some breakfast while we get this mess sorted out?’

The man yanked his arm free. ‘I won’t be needing a new room. As soon as I’ve packed my suitcase, I’m leaving. But, before I go, allow me to introduce myself,’ he said, reaching into the pocket of his dressing gown and thrusting a business card into Juliet’s hand.

Juliet was confused. ‘But I already know your name, Mr Weinberger.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t know what line of work I’m in,’ the man said triumphantly as he turned round and began marching up the stairs.

Juliet looked down at the card in her hand:
Carson Weinberger, Senior Inspector, Schwartz’s Hotel Guide.

‘I don’t fucking believe it,’ she said, clapping a hand to her head.

Leah tutted loudly. ‘
Language
, Mrs Fisher!’

5

It had taken Nicole the best part of the afternoon to get ready for Juliet’s dinner party. Since giving birth, she hadn’t had the time, or the energy, to lavish much attention on herself – but tonight was a special occasion and it deserved a special effort. After dropping Tilly off at her mother’s, she headed for Loxwood’s most upmarket salon, emerging two hours later with her frizzy mop blowdried into a sleek bob, her eyebrows freshly waxed and her fingernails shining with a subtle peony polish. Later, as she walked along the high street, she happened to glance in the window of a chic vintage boutique, where she spotted an adorable black satin cocktail bag. She baulked when she saw the price tag but, knowing how well the bag would go with the full-skirted shirtdress she was planning to wear, she couldn’t resist splashing out.

Back at home, Nicole’s plans received a setback when she discovered the shirtdress still bore an unpleasant residue of baby sick on the collar, despite two washes in biological detergent. Vigorous rubbing with a damp cloth only succeeded in fading the dye around the stain, so that now it looked twice as bad. Eventually, after trying on at least a dozen deeply unflattering outfits, she settled on a geometric print skirt and a pretty tunic top that did a good job of disguising her swollen breasts and soft stomach.

Connor was sprawled across the bed, observing his wife’s
preparations with some degree of amusement. The doctor’s face was wide, the features on it almost too expressive, like those of an actor who’d made a career of crowd pleasing and grown expert in cheap effects. ‘You’re pushing the boat out a bit, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘It’s only a dinner party.’

‘It’s more than that,’ Nicole replied, frowning as she tried to brush the clumps of mascara out of her eyelashes. ‘We’re meeting Juliet’s new husband for the first time.’

Connor yawned. ‘Big deal.’

‘You might show a bit more enthusiasm,’ Nicole said, giving up with the mascara and reaching for a neutral lipstick. ‘And I want you to be nice to Dante. He doesn’t know anyone in England; he’s bound to be feeling a bit at sea.’

‘But he’s just a kid – I doubt we’ll have anything in common.’

‘Well,
find
something.’ Nicole glared at her husband in the mirror. ‘Please … do it for me.’

Connor rolled off the bed. ‘All right, all right,’ he muttered. ‘Anything to stop you nagging.’

He didn’t see the wounded look in his wife’s eyes.

Half an hour later, the Swifts’ Audi was making its way along Ashwicke’s long drive. Magnificent trees lined the way, their highest boughs arching to meet, so the drive became a dark, whispering tunnel. At the end of the tunnel stood the house itself, rearing up from the shadowy mass of grass and trees, its façade fabulous with amber light cast from a series of outdoor lamps.

At the door, Nathan was waiting to greet them. ‘Good evening, Doctor and Mrs Swift,’ he said in a solemn voice. ‘Won’t you come in?’

Nicole, who’d met the general manager on several previous occasions, smiled. ‘You’re working late, aren’t you, Nathan?’

He nodded. ‘I know it’s a big night for Mrs Fisher so I offered to lend a hand at her little soirée. That way she can concentrate on her guests.’ The manager ushered the couple into the hall, before returning to the vestibule to hang up their coats. ‘The others are having drinks in the drawing room. If you’d like to follow me …’

As he turned to lead the way, an elderly lady came shuffling along the corridor towards them. She presented a neat figure in a tartan skirt and angora cardigan. A cameo brooch pinned to the neck of her blouse kept in place, not just the lace collar, but also the strands of wrinkled skin that stretched from her throat to her chin and swayed gently as she spoke.

‘Hello, dear,’ she said as Nathan approached.

‘Hello, Mrs Hibbert,’ he replied. ‘What are you doing here? The west wing is out of bounds to hotel guests.’

The woman’s rheumy eyes blinked. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off piste. I was looking for my knitting. I thought it was in my room, but I can’t find it anywhere.’

‘I expect you left it in the residents’ lounge,’ the manager replied. ‘Why don’t I take you there?’

‘Oh, yes, please,’ the woman said, linking her arm through Nathan’s. ‘It’s a while since I had an escort, especially one as handsome as you.’

Nathan grimaced at the Swifts over the top of her head. ‘Sorry, folks, would you excuse me for a moment?’

‘It’s okay,’ Nicole said, smiling. ‘We can see ourselves to the drawing room. I know the way.’

Nathan and Mrs Hibbert were barely out of earshot when Connor turned to Nicole. ‘This place is a joke,’ he said. ‘Mark my words, Juliet will be out of business by the end of the year.’

Nicole looked at her husband in surprise. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I mean, whatever was Juliet thinking, setting up a hotel in the first place? She doesn’t know the first thing about it.’ He gestured towards a zig-zagging crack in the wall that ran from floor to ceiling. ‘And if the guest accommodation is anything like the rest of the house it’s no wonder she’s struggling to attract guests. When Gus died, she should’ve sold up, taken the money and run.’

‘Actually, I rather admire Juliet for taking a risk,’ Nicole said tightly. ‘It takes a lot of guts to do what she did.’

Connor gave a sneering laugh. ‘Guts? Stupidity, more like.’

Nicole felt a retort rising in her throat but, not wanting to sour the mood, she swallowed it back down. ‘I hope you’re going to make an effort tonight,’ she said as they approached the double doors leading to the drawing room. ‘Like Nathan said, it’s a big night for Juliet.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Connor muttered as he straightened his tie and summoned up one of the fake smiles he usually reserved for patients. ‘I won’t let the side down.’

It was a modest gathering, six people in all, and yet the room gave the impression of being full. The air was thick with excited voices and a rather strident aftershave. Vivaldi was playing softly in the background and a large champagne bucket had pride of place on top of the baby grand.
In the midst of the group stood Juliet. She was talking to a weaselly character in a Harris tweed jacket that Nicole recognized as Gus’s father, Piers, a prominent local businessman. Standing next to them both was a good-looking young man with tawny hair, flecked with gold, and a deep tan. He was smiling and nodding, but his posture was awkward and his eyes bore the bewildered expression of a cartoon character who had just been flattened by a steamroller.

For a couple of seconds nobody seemed to have noticed the Swifts’ arrival; then suddenly Juliet was walking over to them, smiling with what looked to Nicole very much like relief. ‘Perfect timing,’ Juliet hissed in her friend’s ear as they exchanged kisses. ‘I’ve been stuck with Piers for ages. I don’t think he likes Dante.’

‘How can you tell?’ Nicole whispered back.

‘It’s glaringly obvious,’ Juliet said. Without elaborating further, she ushered the couple towards the others. ‘Everyone, I’d like you to meet my good friends, Nicole and Connor Swift.’

Brief introductions followed with the Ingrams and Juliet’s parents, before finally it was Dante’s turn. Connor took the American’s hand in a firm grip and pumped it in a good-humoured, matey fashion.

‘Connor’s a GP,’ Juliet told Dante. ‘His surgery only opened a few months ago, but it’s already got a waiting list as long as your arm. It’s not like your average NHS surgery either; the décor’s really sleek and minimalist … you must’ve spent a fortune on the refurb, Connor.’

The doctor shrugged good-naturedly. ‘Only the best for my patients. What line of business are you in, Dante?’

‘
I worked in a bar back in Aspen. But, uh, I’m not doing anything right now.’

Behind his back Nicole saw Gus’s mother flinch.

‘It’s great to meet you at last,’ Dante told Nicole. ‘Juliet talks about you a lot. I guess you guys are pretty close.’

Nicole smiled at Juliet. ‘Yes, I like to think so.’

‘Have you known each other long?’

‘Five years or so; we met at a yoga class.’

‘We were the useless ones at the back who couldn’t even master the breathing techniques,’ said Juliet. As she spoke, the double doors opened again and Yasmin appeared, looking effortlessly stunning in a floaty bandeau dress and lots of ethnic jewellery. ‘Unlike that exotic creature over there who could wrap both legs round her neck on day one.’ She linked her arm through Dante’s. ‘Come on, let’s go and say hello.’

When Yasmin had done the round of introductions and the guests’ champagne flutes had been refilled, Juliet clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention. ‘Now that we’re all here, I’d like to propose a toast,’ she said. She looked at Dante adoringly and raised her glass to him. ‘To my new husband.’

‘Dante,’ the guests chorused, some more enthusiastically than others.

Nicole smiled as Dante unselfconsciously took Juliet in his arms and buried his face in her hair. ‘Don’t they make a lovely couple?’ she remarked to Juliet’s mother, Catherine, standing next to her.

‘Lovely,’ Catherine echoed. She fingered the rope of pearls at her neck and added in a low voice, ‘He’s very
different to Gus, though. I do hope Juliet knows what she’s doing.’