The Eleventh Floor Page 4

  Chapter Four

  “Holy crap! That was a close call.”

  In the lobby someone else had made it to safety.

  A man, with a good smattering of snow still clinging to his shoulders, was standing in the exact same spot she’d stood in earlier, the same bewildered look etched on his face. Although amazed to see him, Caroline couldn’t resist looking at Raquel too. As she suspected, she looked bored, totally unimpressed. She even rolled her eyes at one point and sighed. Was she going to utter the same words?

  Caroline had to suppress a burst of laughter when she did.

  “You made it then.”

  Before the man could reply, Caroline jumped in – unable to resist repeating what she was sure Raquel would say next. “Good. Not many do. Not in this weather.”

  Both the man and Raquel turned their heads to stare at her – Raquel not in the least bit impressed by such mimicry, the man’s bewilderment increasing.

  Feeling her cheeks redden under the spotlight of their glare, Caroline cleared her throat. “Erm… I mean… It’s terrible, isn’t it? The snow. As bad as they said it would be.”

  She glanced behind the man as if to confirm that fact. The floor-to-ceiling windows were netted but she knew as well as he did what lay beyond, and what was yet to come.

  “I nearly crashed the car,” the man said, capturing her attention again.

  She gasped. “Did you? Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” He lifted one hand to his head. “Gave my head a good whack though. Passed out, I think, but only briefly.”

  Horrified, Caroline hurried over to him, noticing Raquel doing no such thing.

  “You probably need to see a doctor or something. There might even be one on the premises.” Reaching out a hand, she laid it on his arm as if to steady him.

  “Honestly, I’m okay,” he said, smiling at her concern. “I just… lost control, careered into a tree stump of all things.” His smile became a grin. “I’ll tell you what though, you shoulda seen the tree stump. That’ll teach it to pick fights. I’m David by the way, David Mason.”

  “I’m Caroline Daynes. Were you on your way to the hotel?”

  “Yeah, I was. The weather turned kinda quick, didn’t it? I got caught out.”

  She nodded. “I almost crashed my car too. Well… I did crash it, gave the side of my head a good bump.”

  “Jeez, are you okay? It looks like you might have some bruising.”

  Her fingers adjusted her fringe to cover any damage. “I’m okay. It’s a bit sore, but nothing more than that. I’ll live to fight another day.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, Caroline Daynes.”

  Their eyes held and then he broke his gaze to look around, giving her a chance to study him further. Taller than her – she was a little over five foot six and he was closer to six foot – David Mason was also dark haired, rugged in a way, she supposed, maybe even good looking, certainly there was a twinkle in his dark eyes when he turned back. “I’d better go and check in,” he said. “I haven’t actually booked a room yet.”

  “Dinner’s being served in the ballroom,” she blurted out. “That’s where I’m going.”

  Immediately she could have kicked herself. Why was she telling him this? He might think she was hinting or something.

  Luckily, his expression perked up. “The ballroom? Nice. Is it a lavish affair, do you think?”

  “Gosh, I hope not, I’m hardly dressed for a lavish affair.”

  “Believe me, honey, you look good. So… I’ll see you in there?”

  “Sure,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn. Had she been hinting? She supposed so.

  Stepping aside to let him pass, she didn’t venture far. Pausing at one of the tables nearby, and pretending to flick through a magazine, she was curious. Was Raquel going to spin him the same yarn about renovations taking place in the hotel? She didn’t mean to be cynical, but so far she’d found no evidence of any such work being carried out, despite the hotel’s public spaces being in need of it. As for the elevator, that needed fixing too. Why was there only one in a hotel of this size anyway? There should be two at least. Whilst pondering this, she listened to Raquel talking.

  “I’m just figuring out where to put you.”

  Again, she was delivering the same spiel she’d delivered to Caroline.

  “Are you busy?” asked David and Caroline raised an eyebrow, that’s what she’d asked.

  Busy enough, Caroline thought, a split second before Raquel said it.

  Although she didn’t dare turn to stare at them, to make what she was doing obvious – being nosey basically – she’d bet anything that Raquel was scrutinising David right now, looking him up and down as she’d done with her, appraising him. Any minute she’s going to talk about placing him on high, on the eleventh floor. Wait for it, Caroline, wait for it…

  “There’s a room available on the third floor. Not superstitious are you?”

  She swore under her breath. “Damn!” That’d teach her for being such a smart arse.

  “Superstitious?” David questioned. “No, not at all.”

  “I’ll call the bellhop.”

  Caroline sighed. So, he wasn’t on the eleventh floor, like her, like Elspeth, and like Althea. He was on the third.

  Not superstitious are you?

  That statement puzzling her, she closed the magazine and headed to the ballroom.

  * * *

  The ballroom was vast, not just in floor area, but in height too – at least two storeys high. Again Caroline was shocked, she simply would never have guessed at a room this big beyond the partially closed doors that she’d glanced through upon arrival. It seemed out of all proportion. She reminded herself that she hadn’t had time to check the exterior of the hotel properly; she’d been so busy trying to escape the weather. Perhaps that was why she couldn’t reconcile herself with the space inside because she hadn’t yet got a sense of it from the outside. In the morning she’d wrap up warm, go out and get a good look at The Egress, try and put it into some sort of perspective. She’d also check the state of the roads, see if any snowplows had been able to pass through. If so, she could follow their trail into the centre of Williamsfield and explore the town that her mother had grown up in instead of hanging around here. She could visit the same stores, the same cafés, and the same bars. Sadly, her mother’s family house no longer existed, as it had been knocked down years before to make room for yet another highway – a whole street of houses demolished, and the memories those walls contained obliterated too.

  But that was tomorrow, this was tonight. And there was dinner to be had.

  Tables sat on a polished floor, a decent amount of space in between them. Only a few were laid – just over half – although all were covered with pristine, white linen tablecloths.

  The first to arrive for dinner, she waited patiently at the entrance to be shown to a table. When no waiter appeared, she gave herself carte blanche to choose whichever she liked.

  As she continued forwards the lights overhead flickered. They were grand; a rival to those in the lobby, suspended from a ceiling that was white with gold detailing. She wondered if the storm outside might be responsible for the flickering, although to call it a storm seemed wrong somehow. A storm suggested banging and crashing, with windows juddering in their frames as the wind hurled itself against them. There was no noise at all in the ballroom, not even piped music – serene or surreal? She couldn’t decide.

  Coming to a halt, she selected a table that gave her a good view of the double doors. Being nosy again, Caroline? Perhaps, but whoever else was a guest at the hotel intrigued her. They were her fellow inmates, whether here by choice or stranded as she was. In particular, she’d keep an eye out for Elspeth and also the mysterious teen in the elevator.

  And David?

  Of course David. She was looking forward to getting to know him a little better, although certainly she didn’t mind dining alone, she’d done it often enough. In London, during he
r lunch hours, she’d often grab a quick bite at one of the pubs or cafés nearby, and she’d often do it solo, relishing some time to herself. She’d lose herself in a good book or catch up on the latest tabloid nonsense. But tonight… tonight she wanted something different. It surprised her how much she craved company, and David had seemed so nice…

  Pulling a chair out, it scraped against the wood of the floor; that sound at least reverberating. But then it would. This was a ballroom and the acoustics were bound to be good. When was the last time a ball had been held here? And who’d been in attendance, a celebrity perhaps, several celebrities, VIPs, and bigwigs? Like the rest of the hotel, if it was grand once, it wasn’t now. Although certainly an illusion of grandeur clung to it, due in part to its scale. She counted five floor-to-ceiling windows, two on one wall and three on another. As in the lobby, heavy white net curtains obscured what was happening outside, as did pleated drapes, which hung either side of the windows, gold too, a pale, delicate shade, and kept in place with giant tassels. Once grand – opulent even – right now she found the ballroom bordering on pitiful. Why weren’t waiters buzzing around? Where were other guests? There’d been a few cars in the parking lot. There must be some.

  The unease of earlier was blossoming into slight panic when at last she caught movement. Thank God! People were beginning to file in.

  A woman entered first, possibly in her mid-fifties, and alone. With her full figure and perfectly coiffured honey-coloured hair, she reminded Caroline of the movie stars of old: Loren, Lollobrigida, Bardot, those kinds of women. There was one difference though. This woman didn’t walk with confidence. She seemed nervous, in fact, a little lost; her glance bouncing off Caroline to settle on a table that separated them by a few feet. Caroline tried to catch her eye again, to smile in welcome, but the woman simply lowered her head, took a seat, picked up the menu that lay before her and started to read it.

  Next came a man, younger than the woman, but not by much, in his late forties perhaps, and tall with rounded shoulders, his brown hair thinning on top. Slight of build, he looked as if he could do with extra portions tonight, and on his cheeks the markings of teenager acne were still apparent. Caroline wondered if he might know the woman, if he might join her, but he too chose a separate table, sitting at it and immediately pouring himself a glass of water, taking long draughts from it, his hands shaking slightly.

  Elspeth! This had to be her – the giggling redhead. Caroline was surprised. She was not as young as her giggling had suggested. She’d imagined a woman in her twenties, bohemian in style, with flowing skirts and lots of bangles. Certainly Elspeth was brightly dressed, in a green tunic top that complemented her hair, but her skirt was short and tight rather than flowing and her patterned tights had a rusty hue to them, the same shade as the scarf that she’d tied around her abundant curls. She wasn’t young, but she wasn’t old either, although certainly she was trying to be younger than her years.

  Whereas the woman had avoided Caroline’s gaze and the man too to a certain extent, Elspeth seemed to blatantly seek her out. Growing hot and bothered under such scrutiny, Caroline prayed for a diversion, not at all sure now that it’d be interesting to deal with someone like her. Just the opposite in fact, it could prove very draining indeed.

  Thankfully, Elspeth selected a lone table too. Caroline sighed in relief, noticing that other tables in the ballroom had filled up, either lone guests or couples sitting together, some talking, others were busy perusing the menu. Not all tables were full, far from it, but where everybody had come from suddenly she had no idea. Her attention must have been so wrapped up in the woman, the man, and Elspeth that they’d slipped in unnoticed – to her anyway. She didn’t ponder it for long; after all, in a crowded room only certain people stood out. But still, she was intrigued. The teenager, the one from the elevator, where was she? Not here, not at the moment. Would she arrive with her parents, sullen still, lost in her own world as teenagers often were? Perhaps her parents had realised dining with their teen in tow would be a less than joyous experience and had insisted on room service. Or perhaps they were here, one of the couples, the teen having parked herself in front of the TV.

  Another guest entered, another loner – a young woman, tall and slim with blonde hair that was close-cropped in a boyish style but which was utterly feminine on her. She looked at no one, gazing ahead, imperiously ahead, Caroline thought. A woman who knows she’s beautiful and acts like royalty because of it. An instant dislike for the woman flared. Not because she was jealous of her beauty, or her superiority – far from it. Caroline had been told she was pretty often enough and was comfortable in her own skin, but this woman; there was something… unsavoury about her. As she sat at her chosen table, a waiter emerged at last from his hiding place and rushed over to her, a marked difference to when Caroline had entered. But for a woman like this they’d make an effort – physical beauty being something that was worshipped in society, a prize to behold. Who cared what lay beneath?

  “Well, hello again, mind if I join you?”

  Caroline almost jumped out of her skin. Like the other diners who had simply appeared, so had David, standing tall beside her – his grin firmly in place.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

  “No… yes… erm…”

  “Let’s take it that I did, then,” he answered, laughing still. “I waved to you as I came in, but you seemed a little preoccupied with Princess Perfect over there.”

  “Princess Perfect?” she queried before realisation dawned. How embarrassing! If he’d noticed her staring, had anybody else in the room, not least Princess Perfect herself?

  “May I sit down?” David asked.

  “Of course, of course, please. I’d love it if you joined me.”

  Selecting a chair to the right of her, he eased himself into it.

  “We look like mourners at a funeral,” she remarked, smiling too.

  “Sorry?”

  “The way we’re dressed, you’re in black too.”

  “Ah,” he said, looking down at his jeans and shirt, “I suppose we do.” Inclining his head towards Elspeth, who was engaged in rather loud chitchat with another waiter, he added, “I think there are enough colourful characters in here tonight.”

  “I think you might be right. How’s your head?”

  “Like yours, sore, but it’ll heal.”

  “Hopefully. If we can escape this place tomorrow, you can always get checked out.”

  “Escape?” He looked bemused by her choice of word. “It’s not a bad place to find yourself. I’m liking the company I’m keeping.”

  She could feel her cheeks colouring again. “I’m liking it too. Wine? Shall we order some?”

  “Sure,” he replied, summoning a waiter. “I tried to find the bar earlier, thought I’d settle in there for half an hour before dinner but no such luck. Drinks are served either here or in the lobby. Still, can’t complain, at least they are being served, that’s something.”

  “The lobby’s a nice enough place to sit.”

  “It sure is. Ah, waiter, thank you, can we have a bottle of… Merlot. Is that okay, Caroline?”

  “Perfect,” she replied.

  With the bottle brought out to them a few minutes later, Caroline asked David whether he was travelling for business or leisure.

  “Business. I’m a salesman.”

  “A salesman?” she queried. He didn’t look like her idea of a salesman. Hey, Caroline, are you stereotyping, imagining someone older, overweight, balding on top, someone stressed, with a nervous tic perhaps, praying to God they’re going to make their targets, selling their soul for a chance to exceed them? Perhaps. This man was far from stressed; he looked relaxed, as comfortable in his own skin as she was. “What do you sell?”

  “Insurance.”

  “Insurance?”

  “Health insurance. It’s a big deal in America don’t you know.”

  “I imagine it is. It might be a big deal in the UK too soon
enough, considering the state of our NHS.” She inclined her head to the side. “I’d have thought most insurance is bought over the Internet now, the travelling salesman being something of a dying beast.”

  David shook his head as he poured into both their glasses, beautiful glasses she belatedly realised, with intricate etchings on them, crystal for certain. The dinner plates were also impressive, a gold band to match the gold of the ballroom encircling each one and an elegant ‘E’ in the middle, the same design as that on the floor of the elevator, and at the foot of the welcome letter – the hotel logo obviously. Beside the plates, the flatware looked as if it was real silver, certainly knives and forks were heavy to the touch.

  Having taken a sip, David answered her question. “I sell to major companies not door to door. And God knows I’m busier than ever.”

  Sipping her wine too, relishing its rich, deep flavour as well as its ruby red shade, she told him she was in America on holiday, glossing over the exact reasons why, stating instead that she was catching up with long lost family. “I was supposed to be staying in Williamsfield itself, my mother’s hometown, but, of course, I never got that far.”

  “Your loss, my gain,” he said, offering his glass to clink against hers.

  As she did so, another feeling erupted in her chest, not unease this time; it was something far more pleasant than that – excitement? Perhaps. As he’d said, The Egress wasn’t that bad a place to be, not when there was such company to be found.

  Ordering their food, a garden salad to start with, and then steak for him and Atlantic salmon for her, they continued to talk, a pleasant level of chatter also in the air around them. She was so engrossed in their conversation, so absorbed by David’s expressions as he spoke, his dark eyes sparkling in the light of the chandeliers, that it took a minute for her to register two things: another presence in the dining room, that of an elderly lady, she looked as old as the hotel itself, frail but dignified. Assisted by a younger woman, she didn’t walk in; she seemed to glide – taking her seat at one of the tables – the head table. She was clearly someone very special – the lady in the corner suite on the eleventh floor? She had to be.