Annie put down the phone, light-headed with the relief and excitement of Karen Grant’s sudden reappearance.
‘Chris still can’t find him,’ she said apologetically. She poured another two cups from the inevitable pot of crisis tea which had made its appearance.
It was as if Karen’s presence had made everything go back the way it was before; as if none of it had happened at all.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘I can’t believe that you all thought James had done away with me,’ she said.
She was taking it all very calmly, thought Annie. But then she hadn’t had anything to worry about, unlike everyone else.
‘I didn’t,’ she answered truthfully. ‘But I think the police did.’
Karen smiled, crossing one elegant leg over the other. ‘Poor James,’ she said.
‘I know,’ Annie said. ‘But he couldn’t say where you were – I think they thought that was—’ She tailed off, convinced that whatever she said would give offence.
‘Suspicious?’ Karen Grant was almost teasing Annie. ‘He didn’t know where I was,’ she explained. ‘I was taking a sabbatical.’
‘He said that, more or less.’
‘I needed time on my own,’ she said. ‘So I went away for a while. I’m afraid your handsome policeman has rather fallen for me.’ She paused. ‘I’m not like James. Either I was leaving him, or I wasn’t. So I wanted to get away from both of them ‘Tom and James. I needed time to think.’
The drive couldn’t last for ever; Grant finally went back to the Wellington.
‘Mr Grant!’ Christine cried as soon as she saw him. ‘Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere—’
She broke off as the corridor door opened and Karen appeared.
‘Hello, James,’ she said, and her voice was cool.
He bowed slightly. ‘Good of you to come back,’ he said.
‘You don’t seem wildly excited at my return from the grave.’
‘I never thought for a moment that you were dead.’
Karen walked past him to the lift, and Christine’s excitement at the reunion had turned into puzzled disappointment. Grant smiled at her.
‘Not quite Romeo and Juliet,’ he said, as the lift arrived, and he stepped in behind Karen.
The lift purred quietly upwards.
‘I really am happy to see you,’ he said.
‘Why did everyone think I was dead?’ she demanded to know.
‘Apparently Mr Webb recognised your coat,’ he said. ‘I bowed to his superior fashion sense.’
Karen turned slowly to face him. ‘You mean you knew it wasn’t mine? And you let him think I was dead?’
Grant spread his hands. ‘I didn’t know,’ he said. ‘It could have been yours – it looked like one of yours. I’m not very good at that sort of thing.’
‘That was—’ She searched for a word.
‘Despicable is the word you want, I think,’ he said. ‘But it wasn’t. You and I are a match for one another. Mr Webb is an innocent. You were trying to prove that sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander, and you used him. But now it’s all over, and we can get on with our lives.’
She shook her head. ‘No. All right, it started that way with Tom – and perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should leave him alone. And perhaps I will. But I’m not coming back to you, James. Not now.’ The lift doors opened. ‘Not ever,’ she said, stepping out.
If there was an O-level in paperback clichés, he thought wearily, Karen would actually pass.
Annie was surprised to see Karen again so soon. The reunion must have been short.
Karen sat down, composing herself before speaking, as if she were about to address a public meeting. She smoothed her skirt, and looked up.
‘I told you I had gone away to think,’ she said. ‘And I had thought, very hard, about my marriage. I came to the conclusion that James really had been trying to turn over a new leaf. I decided that my marriage was worth saving.’
Annie made a non-committal noise, wondering why she had been singled out for this confidence.
‘I went straight home when I arrived,’ Karen carried on, and there was something remorseless about it. ‘You know, we really should have replaced our daily when she left. Perhaps a daily would have tidied away the evidence.’
‘Sorry?’ Annie said.
‘A cliché if ever there was one – I mean, lipstick on his collar would have been subtle by comparison.’ She flashed perfect teeth at Annie in something that passed for a smile. ‘She left the whole lipstick,’ she said. ‘On my dressing table.’
Sandra, of course. ‘Oh,’ Annie said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
Dismayed, Annie realised why Karen was visiting. ‘You don’t think it’s mine?’
Karen set down her cup. ‘I’ve had quite a morning,’ she said. ‘First of all I arrive home to find that James has had a house-guest, then I come here to be told I’m dead. I’ve no sooner got to grips with that than James is telling me that he’s dismissed you.’
‘Yes,’ Annie said.
‘Because you had some man staying here? Why on earth should that bother James?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ sighed Annie. ‘But – I presume you have heard from another source –s Mr Grant did take me to dinner one night.’
‘Yes,’ she said. Her deep blue eyes were watching Annie closely.
‘It was by way of an apology,’ Annie went on. ‘For interfering in the running of the hotel – which he had been – and it was entirely above board. You could have been with us.’
Karen Grant lowered black lashes, then looked up. ‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘I’m glad it wasn’t you. But I’ve had enough, Annie. I don’t know what James is going to do, but I’d like to book in here until I sort myself out. In a different room from James.’
Tom Webb arrived, and with him Annie’s realisation that nothing at all had been resolved by Karen’s return. Matters had only been made immeasurably worse.
‘Well, well,’ he said, breezing in. ‘You gave us all a bit of a fright, Mrs Grant.’
‘Annie knows,’ she said bluntly.
Tom looked uncomfortable. ‘Oh,’ he said, and sat down. ‘I thought you were dead,’ he said.
Annie felt a little awkward. Clearly, they would rather be alone. But somehow it seemed even more tactless to leave.
‘James let you believe it was my coat,’ Karen said.
‘Flash Gordon’s got it outside,’ he said, getting to his feet.
‘Who?’
‘Oh, nothing.’ He smiled, and opened the door. ‘Constable,’ he said.
The constable hastily presented himself, carrying a dry-cleaning bag.
‘We haven’t had it dry-cleaned,’ Tom said. ‘The bags come in handy. That’s the coat.’
Karen glanced at it, then looked at Tom, surprised. ‘But that is my coat,’ she said. ‘At least, it used to be. I gave it away to a girl who worked for James. Lesley Osborne.’
Annie felt the colour drain from her face.
‘Annie?’ Tom said. ‘Are you all right? Did you know her?’
‘It needn’t be her, Annie,’ Karen was saying. ‘She might have given the coat to someone else – it could even be another coat like mine.’ She came over, putting her arm round Annie’s shoulders. ‘Did you know her very well?’
‘Not me,’ Annie said, in a whisper. ‘Not me.’
Tom crouched down beside her where she sat. ‘Come on, Annie,’ he said, just like he had at the pier.
‘Where’s Christine?’ Annie asked. ‘Where’s Christine?’
‘She was on the desk,’ Karen said, jumping up. ‘Don’t worry, Annie. I’ll get her.’
‘What’s wrong, Annie?’ Tom asked.
Before she had time to answer, Christine came in. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, bewildered.
‘Tell Tom,’ Annie said. ‘Tell him the truth this time.’
Christine’s fair skin reddened. ‘What?’ she said, playing for time.
‘Harry knows you weren’t telling the truth,’ Annie insisted. ‘He told me.’
‘And I told Harry,’ Christine said. ‘He knows all about it!’
‘Wait a minute!’ Tom shouted across them. ‘Who’s Harry?’
‘Harry Lambert,’ Annie said.
‘Lambert! What the hell’s he got to do with this?’
‘He’s a friend of mine,’ Annie said.
‘Is he now? If he’s interfered in this, I promise you, I’ll—’ He gave up in frustration, and turned to Christine. ‘The truth about what?’ he demanded. ‘Ainsley?’
Annie couldn’t look at Christine.
‘Ainsley?’ Karen Grant said. ‘Wasn’t that Lesley’s husband or whatever?’
Tom’s head twisted round to her. ‘Her what?’ he roared.
‘Well – she lived with him, I think.’ She looked beautifully helpless as she turned her exquisite eyes towards Annie.
‘Didn’t she?’ she asked.