The lobby looked abandoned when Alicia stepped inside, and she fluffed her wet hair up as she glanced about. It was almost dinnertime, and everybody must still be getting ready, she decided, noticing the large clock above the reception desk. She had washed and dressed quickly, keen to report the rock fall, but there was no one about. Noticing a small gold bell sitting atop the desk, she stepped across and was about to tap it when she heard voices coming from what she assumed was an office behind reception.
“…any idea why?” came a woman’s voice, followed quickly by a man’s.
“Not exactly, but… my theories.”
Alicia couldn’t hear every word, but she could make out Vale’s haughty tone. The woman’s voice was not as clear, but their mutual annoyance was obvious, so Alicia reached for a pamphlet and stepped away to allow them to finish their conversation. She heard the words “imposter” and “fraudster” and then “think we’re complete idiots!” before somebody humphed loudly.
After a few seconds, the woman said, “So what are you going to do?”
Another pause and then Vale said very clearly, “Confront them, of course! And I need to warn—”
There was an abrupt silence, and then Vale suddenly materialised, catching Alicia by surprise. He must have sensed her presence, but luckily she was still browsing the pamphlet, or at least pretending to, so she glanced up at him innocently, slapping a breezy smile on her face.
“Sorry to disturb,” she said.
“Not at all, madam,” he replied swiftly. “You’re looking for the dining room, I presume?”
“Actually, no, I just want to report an incident on the track. But I can come back—”
“That won’t be necessary.” He glanced back briefly, giving the slightest shake of his head, before stepping out and towards her. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m not sure.”
She told the manager exactly what had happened, and he listened intently, eyes darkening with every sentence.
“That is precisely why I asked you all to stick to the lower, signposted tracks.”
“So that is a track up there?”
“A very old one, I can assure you. Repentance Way. But it has not been in use for years; it’s far too dangerous.”
“Well I’m pretty sure it was used this afternoon. I definitely saw someone up there. Could they have caused the rock fall accidentally or…?”
She didn’t need to finish that sentence; he was already looking horrified. “I can assure you, madam, that if someone had strayed onto the track, it most certainly would have been an accident. I really don’t see why someone would want to cause any harm to you or your friends.”
Alicia smiled. He was right. Of course he was right. Her imagination was getting ahead of her again. “Still, I thought I should tell you.”
“And I’m glad you did. I shall remind your party of the importance of staying on the correct tracks.”
It wasn’t flying boulders he was thinking of now though. It was the threat of history crashing down upon them.
~
As Mrs Flannery placed the first course before them—a hearty pumpkin soup with a scoop of sour cream in the centre and a chunk of hot crusty bread beside it—Vale was as good as his word and stepped to the front of the long dining table and tapped a wine glass gently with a knife.
“If I could have your attention please, everyone.” The group settled down, and he gave them one of his awkward smiles. “I have a few housekeeping announcements, and then I shall leave you to enjoy Mrs Flannery’s fine cooking.”
“It smells delish!” Missy said while Lynette raised an eyebrow.
It did smell delicious, that was true, but “fine” was not the word she would use. It was more country provincial; practically peasant food.
“Firstly,” Vale began, “we do want you to enjoy the surroundings, but I ask—again—that anyone going on a bush walk, please stay on the marked tracks. The walking paths start at the lower edge of the driveway and are clearly signposted. Please, we ask that no one take any other routes. There is an older trail that winds above the lodge at the northern end of the driveway, but it has not been maintained for many years and can cause harm to yourself or others.”
He glanced at Alicia, and she nodded her appreciation. Then, eyes still on her, he said, “I believe your club will begin proceedings tomorrow morning?”
She nodded again, then addressed the group. “I was thinking we could start around ten thirty, what do you think? That’ll give us all time for a sleep-in or a walk if you prefer.”
“But stay on the right track!” added Flo, her tone a little huffy.
Vale continued. “I believe you will be most comfortable in the library and will prepare it accordingly. Mrs Flannery will provide both morning and afternoon tea and will leave a light lunch in the fridge at the back of the library, which you can help yourself to as required. But please, if you do need anything else, anything at all, do not hesitate to tap the bell in the foyer or use the internal phone and I will be able to assist.”
“Have you got Wi-Fi?” someone called out. It was Ronnie, eyes wide.
“We do of course have internet connection on the main computer, madam, but we like to encourage our guests to unplug while they are here. We find it makes for a much more relaxing experience.”
“Really?” she said, looking like she’d never heard anything so preposterous.
Blake was also frowning while Simon glanced at Claire, and they shared a smile, remembering their encounter on her balcony.
Vale went to leave, then had a sudden thought and stepped back. “One other thing, if you don’t mind. It has been a very dry season. Exceptionally dry, in fact. We haven’t seen it this dry since…” His voice faltered as he glanced around the group anxiously. “We are not concerned, not at all, but we do ask that you are conscious of water usage at all times. Please be sure to turn taps off securely and reuse towels where possible.” He nodded and said, “Thank you for your patience and bon appétit.”
As Vale returned to the kitchen, Lynette turned to the people around her. “What’s Vale so freaked out about?”
“They are on tank water, Lynny,” Missy replied, reaching for her spoon. “They have to conserve it but, really, honeykins, we should all be conserving water all the time no matter who we are and where we live. It’s about protecting resources—”
“Actually, dear,” said Ronnie, “I think he’s more concerned about the immediate future and bushfires; having enough water should we find ourselves in the middle of one.”
Lynette darted her eyes to Alicia, who was deep in conversation with Claire. Good, she thought. They were all seated together at one table, but it was a very large table, and most of them had broken off into smaller conversations. Alicia and Claire were chatting at one end while Perry and Simon were listening to something Flo was saying at the other, and in between sat Blake, studying his meal like a food critic.
“Is that the Great Fire you mentioned earlier?” asked Lynette now. “What happened?”
“Well,” said Ronnie, swallowing a mouthful of soup, then leaning in like it was a government secret, a lock of ash-blond hair dropping into one eye. “It was at least forty-five years ago if my memory serves me well, and we all know it’s very creaky.”
“Fifty, actually,” said Blake, who was no longer staring at his bowl. He added quickly, “Or so I hear. I was hoping to learn more about it in the library, but the place is nothing but outdated encyclopedias and dust bunnies.” His own eyes darted around the dining room now, his lips drawn downward. “This place could really do with a makeover, it’s so old school. If I were the new owner, I’d rip it all down and start again.”
“There’s a new owner?” said Lynette.
“Hell yeah, why else do you think they’re revamping? The Lyle family have barely touched the place since they built it almost ninety years ago. Stuck in the crusty old days, they are, with their stuffed animals and stiff family portraits. Pity the fire didn’t take half the place out. At least now it’ll get a new lease in life.”
“Anyhoo,” said Ronnie, flashing him a surprisingly vehement frown, “the fire was just after I visited, I believe, back in the crusty old days.” Her frown flashed again. “It had been such a lovely dance too, and poor Lydia Lyle, she must have been devastated when it happened. The dances were all her idea, you see…”
“What happened?” Lynette asked, keeping her on track. She had a feeling there was going to be quite a bit of that with this particular club member.
“The fire, dear!” The woman looked at her like she was dim. “Vale’s right of course. It was extremely dry that year, I don’t believe they’d had their usual rains, and the year before hadn’t been much better. Bit like now, actually.” Her own lips smudged downwards. “The undergrowth was like tinder, so when a fire started down the gorge, well, it swept up like…”
“Wildfire?” Blake offered, and now she squinted at him, not sure if he was mocking her.
“What happened?” Lynette asked again. “To the lodge and the guests?”
“Oh they got lucky, dear. The place was spared, but I heard the fire came within inches! Although there might have been some lives lost, I’m not quite sure…”
“Just the one,” said Blake, no longer sniggering. “A man in his early twenties, a staffer, employed to lead the hunt. He went to fight the fire and never came back.” Then, to their raised eyebrows, he added, “I’m a bit of a news junkie. Checked it out before I came up.”
Ronnie was frowning suspiciously at him now. “A hunter, you say? Hmm…”
“Yeah, well you won’t find any pictures of him amongst the ‘happy snaps’,” Blake said, using his fingers for the inverted commas. “And if you check out the lodge’s timeline in the library, you’ll find no mention of the fire, let alone the poor bastard who died for this place. Like it never even happened.”
“It’s not something we like to celebrate,” came a tight voice behind Blake, and he turned, startled, to find Mrs Flannery standing there, a bottle of red wine in one hand, a bottle of white in the other. “Hardly the best publicity for the place.” Then she forced her lips into a smile and said, “So, Mr Morrow, what’s your poison?”
~
At their end of the table, Claire was grilling Alicia about another natural disaster, a smaller and more recent one.
“I heard about the landslide. Are you okay?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Alicia said lightly. “We just got a good dusting, that’s all.”
Claire dropped her head to one side. “It’s me, Alicia. How are you feeling? Has it freaked you out?”
Alicia smiled. “I can’t put anything past you lot anymore.” She released a heavy breath of air, causing her fringe to rise up. “Truth is, I was a little spooked. It came out of nowhere.”
“Fair enough. That could have been so much worse. Tell me, any idea how it happened?”
“Vale says there’s a disused walking track above the one we were on. It’s eerily called Repentance Way.”
“Oooh, that is eerie.”
“I know! It’s been shut down because they’ve had rock falls in the past.”
“So that’s why Vale got all snippy about the tracks before dinner?”
She nodded. “We must stay on the beaten path!” She squinted. “Except, somebody didn’t.” She glanced around, then back. “I saw someone up there.”
“Who?”
“Couldn’t tell from that distance, and they slunk away before I could show the others. But there was someone up there, I’m sure of it. It was probably the same person I saw heading off in that direction, up the driveway, just before we started our walk.”
Claire looked doubly startled. “Really? And you didn’t recognise them?”
“I only got a fleeting look. They had a hat on, but I think it was a man. I saw a flash of him before he vanished into the forest. You didn’t notice anyone heading out this afternoon, did you?”
Claire frowned. Yes, she had, but she almost didn’t want to mention it. “I did see Simon walking about outside.”
Alicia glanced across at him and back. “When exactly?”
“While we were all unpacking. I was trying to get mobile reception and was standing on my balcony. He was striding past and had a quick chat.”
“Which direction was he striding? Down the driveway or up?”
She hesitated. “Upwards, last I saw him, but he wouldn’t have meant any harm, Alicia, you must know that. It would have been an accident.”
“Of course, Claire. He must have got the tracks mixed up. Now I think about it, it’s a relief. At least I know I’m not seeing things again!” She laughed. “As long as we all stick to the lower track, the official track, we should be safe. And I really want to take a good long walk at some stage tomorrow.”
“Me too,” said Claire, eyeing off the steamy pot of coq au vin that Mrs Flannery was now placing on the table, Vale behind her with bowls of creamy mashed potatoes and green beans sprinkled with what smelled like parmesan. “I think I’m going to need the exercise!”
Alicia waited until both staff members were out of earshot, then asked, “What do we really know about this Simon fellow?”
Claire shrugged. “Not a lot, but isn’t that the whole reason we’re here? To get to know each other better.” Then she glanced across at the man and back. “Apart from the fact that he might have inadvertently killed you this afternoon, I think he seems quite lovely, actually. Why do you ask? What are you worried about?”
Alicia followed her eyes and shrugged. “Oh, nothing. It’s just something I overheard…”
~
As the two women huddled together whispering, Simon tried to keep his attention focused on something Flo was saying. Something about the perfect way to pluck a chicken—start with the drumsticks, apparently, and work your way down. But his eyes kept straying to Claire and Alicia. He was sure he had heard his name mentioned, and they had both looked over at one point. There was no doubt about that.
He tried to mask his frown.
Surely they hadn’t worked it out yet?
He couldn’t bear it if they had. He still had so much left to do, so much left to learn…
~
Almost two hours later, when the casserole was consumed, followed soon after by a brandy-laced pudding, the group polished off the last of their wine and began to peel away—one to the library, one or two for an evening stroll, the others to their rooms.
It would be many more hours before everything settled down and silence finally descended, but eventually it did.
Eventually the time was right.
It was bang on two thirty a.m. when a door slowly opened. Two seconds later and a head poked out, eyes looking left then right, then left again.
Another few seconds, then a soft step into the hallway, a hand hanging low, clutching something sharp and shiny.
A few more tentative steps down the corridor towards the lobby. Then hesitation again, listening for sounds, looking for movement, before continuing on, more determined this time. Anxious now to mete out some justice that was many years in the making.
A long-awaited act of atonement.