Page 67 of The Venice Murders

Amazingly, she did, choosing to wear her second-best sandals – she had little choice now – and a favourite sundress. An elegant navy-and-white spotted cotton which, though she didn’t like to boast, fitted her perfectly and was a surefire way to brighten her mood. Smiling at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she enjoyed the luxury of a full ten minutes of hair brushing – the shower might have washed away the canal water, but there had still been a stickiness to her waves – before walking back into the bedroom, only to find her husband had once more fallen asleep.

Gently, she shook the one shoulder that was visible. ‘Jack! Wake up! You were the one rallyingmea minute ago.’

He gave a low groan, burying himself more deeply in the bedclothes.

‘No groaning,’ she said firmly. ‘We’ve a lovely day ahead. Come and look.’

Through the long windows, she could see a thick haze overhanging the lagoon. The sun, it seemed, was in hiding today, yet Flora was anything but unhappy. Brilliant sunshine was all very well, but the cooler air brought with it a new energy, a new determination, and, despite yesterday’s terrifying experience, she felt ready to make the most of this, her last day in a city she’d begun to love.

‘A few more minutes, surely?’ he pleaded. ‘For being a hero?’

‘That was yesterday – and you’ve already had your few minutes.’

‘Such a taskmaster! And so young!’

Reluctantly, he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, unaware of a knock on the bedroom door. Flora went to answer, immediately alert. It will be trouble, she thought, always trouble. A hotel bellboy stood in the corridor holding a small slip of paper.

‘From England,’ he said, handing it to her, his eyes bright with excitement. Evidently, this was an unusual event. ‘A telegram, signora.’

The boy had gone before Flora had time to read the message and it was with trepidation that she carried the slip of paper back into the room.

The short message took no more than a second to read. ‘Jack,’ she shouted to him in the bathroom, ‘it’s Alice.’

His head appeared around the bathroom door.

‘What’s Alice?’

‘This telegram.’ She waved the paper at him and, in an instant, he was at her side.

‘Something serious?’ He looked worried.

‘I wouldn’t think so,’ she said calmly. ‘Although for Alice it is. Look.’

SALLY MISSING. PLEASE HELP. ALICE.

Jack frowned. ‘What does she mean, “Sally missing”?’

‘Sally can’t have arrived home yet – at least, I think that’s what it means. She stayed in Venice to be with Bianca, didn’t she? I don’t think she could have telephoned Alice to tell her she’d be back a day late.’

He grimaced. ‘I’m not surprised she forgot to call. As I remember it, she was rushing to catch the later train as it was.’

‘Alice will be frantic.’ Flora put her hand to her forehead. ‘You know how anxious she gets. How she feels about anywhere beyond Dover.’

‘You’d better telephone her and put her mind at rest. When I’ve finished here’ – his razor was still in his hand – ‘I’ll meet you on the terrace. Breakfast still calls!’

At the reception desk, Flora asked if, as an emergency, she could use their telephone. It would be quicker than waiting to be put through from the kiosk they’d used previously. The young man behind the desk seemed uncertain but, as soon as she showed him the telegram, he waved her into the manager’s office and left her alone to make her call.

It was the receptionist at the Priory who answered, telling Flora that the kitchen had only an internal phone but that she would fetch Mrs Jenner herself, as long as the cook was at work today. It was a possibility Flora hadn’t considered and she made ready to end this call and try Alice’s home number instead.

There was a lengthy pause, but then Alice’s voice came down the line, breathless and tight with anxiety.

‘Flora, is that you?’ And without waiting for an answer, Alice was off. ‘Thank goodness you’ve called. I don’t know where to turn. It’s Sally, you see, she hasn’t come back. She’s got herself lost, Flora. Or she’s had an accident. One of them canals, I’m certain. I knew the girl shouldn’t have gone. I knew it. You’ll have to look for her. You and Jack. You need to do it straightway. I’m sorry about your honeymoon, I really am, but you’ll have to find her. Go to the police, that’s the thing to do. The police?—’

‘Alice,’ Flora interrupted her. She was tempted to laugh but tried to keep her voice neutral. ‘Please calm down. Sally isn’t lost. She had to stay an extra day in Venice and didn’t have time to tell you. She was travelling back yesterday and I’m sure she’ll be with you any hour now.’

‘What did you say?’

‘She stayed for an extra day,’ Flora said patiently. ‘She stayed for Bianca – you remember, the Italian girl who asked her to come to Venice.’

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