Page 28 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
“What does she want?”
“I’ve no idea. Hurry up. Don’t keep her waiting.”
Shelley hurried down the stairs, anxiety coiling in her stomach. Maybe she was a pessimist to always think there was going to be trouble, but life had taught her that there usually was.
Jess was at the reception desk. “Hi. They’re in the lounge.” Her smile was bright — that was reassuring, anyway. “I’m bringing coffee. Do you want one?”
“No . . . um . . . yes, please.” Coffee? Surely that had to be reassuring too?
Lisa was seated in a corner of the lounge with two smartly dressed women that Shelley recognised. One of them was the Chair of the Ladies’ Golf League. As she hesitated, Lisa glanced up and beckoned her over.
“Ah, here she is. Sit down, Shelley. I asked you down to meet Mrs Lewis and Mrs Booth.”
“Ah, yes. We’ve met before, haven’t we, dear?” The two women were smiling at her. “We just wanted a moment to thank you in person.”
She stared at them, startled. “Thank me?”
“Roland Gibbons. He’s been a thorn in our side for some time, with his inappropriate behaviour, but it was difficult to do anything about him as the other women were all reluctant to make a formal complaint. You going to the police about him has given them the courage to speak out.”
“Oh!”
“He’s been suspended from the committee,” the second woman went on. “And the police are charging him with several counts of assault. It’ll be some time before the case comes to court, of course, but at least it’s being taken seriously at last.”
Jess had brought the coffees over and set them down on the low table between them. As she turned away, she gave Shelley an encouraging wink. Shelley smiled back. She had never really had a female friend, but she really liked Jess.
One of the ladies — Mrs Booth? — picked up her coffee cup and took a delicate sip. “It must have been a most unpleasant experience.”
Shelley was tempted to tell her that dealing with their sleazy Mr Gibbons hadn’t been the most unpleasant thing. Dealing with the police had been the difficult part. But these two genteel ladies wouldn’t understand that.
So she just smiled and sipped her coffee, wondering how soon it would be okay to make an excuse to get away. They wereprobably very nice women. It wasn’t their fault that they made her feel uncomfortable. It was just that they reminded her of the magistrates she had encountered as a child — well-meaning but completely unable to understand the reality of her life.
At last they finished their coffee, and one of them glanced at her watch. “Well, we’ve time to get in a practice round before lunch,” she declared. “Come on, Iris.”
The two of them rose to their feet, smiling graciously at Shelley. “Well, goodbye, my dear. It was so nice to meet you. And thank you again.”
“Yes. Um . . . thank you.” She put on a smile which she hoped looked genuine. “It was nice to meet you too.”
She moved to pick up the empty coffee cups, but Lisa shook her head. “No, leave that. I’ll do it. I haven’t had a chance to speak to you since Wednesday. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Really. It was nice of them to say thank you like that.”
“It was probably the least they could do. As for suspending him, I’d like to suspend him. By his ankles. With cheese wire.”
Shelley laughed. For all she was the assistant manager, Lisa had no side to her. “That would be good. Anyway, I’ve got rooms to clean. See you later.”
She hurried back up the stairs to the second floor, and along the corridor. Tracey had locked the door to Alex’s room, so she opened it with her pass-key . . . and stopped dead on the threshold.
Alex was in there. There was a suitcase on the bed, and he was packing it.
Something cold swept through her, like being caught by a rogue wave on the beach. “You’re leaving.”
He turned and smiled. “I’m leaving the hotel. As I’m staying in Sturcombe longer than I’d initially intended, I thought I might rent a flat for a while instead.”
“Oh . . .”
“I’ve found quite a nice one, on Pear Tree Road. It’s got a sea view.”
“Oh . . . That’s nice.”
