‘How do you feel about staying the night?’ Mallory caught Elsa on the stairs carrying a tall glass of fizzy clear liquid on a tray.
Elsa frowned. ‘My mum wouldn’t like it. She told me to make sure I always get the last boat home in the evening. I can walk home from the harbour.’
‘With Alys ill, we’ll be short of staff tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? What do you think I’m doing here now? I was cleaning this morning and Alex has me waiting tables this evening. Now you want me to check out the guests in the morning too?’
‘Listen to the wind, Elsa. I’m not sure the evening boat’s coming to pick you up tonight. There’s a staff room at the back of the hotel. You might need to stay here.’
‘If the boat comes, I’m going on it.’
‘Fine.’ Mallory was in no mood for an argument. ‘Who’s asked for room service?’
‘Guest in room seven called Grace has a headache. She’s asked for a drink of lemonade.’
‘Let me take it. I’ll check if she’s OK.’ A headache sounded a relatively minor ailment but you never knew. Elsa willingly gave up the tray and smoothed down her dress ready to return to the kitchen.
Grace Pagonakis answered on the first knock wearing the hotel’s monogrammed dressing gown. Her hair was damp and had gone slightly frizzy. She gave the appearance of having recently emerged from the shower, but Mallory’s first thought was the figure by the laurel hedge. Perhaps it had been Grace she’d seen, trying to shake off the headache.
‘I’ve brought your lemonade. How are you feeling?’
‘Could you put it on the table over there? I feel awful, to be honest. My head is thumping. It’s all my fault. I rushed down here in the car without thinking what toll it’d take on my eyes.’
‘Perhaps you’re dehydrated from the journey.’ Mallory put the tray on the glass table.
‘It can’t be that. I drank loads of water in the car.’ Grace made a face. ‘Might be the coffee I drank. Caffeine’s not brilliant for me so I only had a sip. Oh well, don’t worry, I’ll hopefully be OK in the morning.’
‘Did you come far?’
‘From Hastings. It was ridiculous coming all this way just for the weekend, but I just couldn’t resist it when I discovered I’d won the prize.’
‘A prize?’
‘Didn’t you know? I subscribe to a beauty box company called Gum Candy. I won this weekend trip away.’
‘Must have been a nice surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever won anything, let alone a break in a place like this.’ Mallory switched on the floor lamp and pulled the curtains to shut out some of the noise from the roar of the wind.
‘Me neither. I thought it was a scam when I first got the card telling me I’d won. I couldn’t actually remember entering the competition, but when I called to make sure it was real the lady on reception told me the room had been booked and paid for.’
‘You must have entered somehow.’
‘I know. They do some great giveaways and I always click on the links in their emails and then forget about them. I was so excited I’d won but I hadn’t realised it’d be such a long way.’ Grace made a face. ‘In fact, I bunked off school this afternoon.’
‘You’re a teacher?’
Grace reddened. ‘I know it’s not on. Now I feel so guilty. I made an excuse that I had a doctor’s appointment, so they got cover for me. As it was, it still took five hours to get here because of the traffic. Perhaps my headache is divine retribution.’
‘I don’t believe in that.’
‘I do. No good deed goes unpunished.’
Mallory turned at the girl’s tone but her face was hidden by the towels she was using to rub her hair dry.
‘Were you outside just now?’
‘In this weather? Not a chance. Why do you ask?’
‘I saw someone near the hotel with a lamp.’
‘Crazy. Thanks for bringing my lemonade.’
‘My pleasure. Let me know if you need anything. Dinner is in an hour.’
In her office, Mallory kicked off her soaked shoes and, using the hotel’s wi-fi, sent Toby a message on WhatsApp.
Alys’s death had shaken her and she needed to check in with her son. Although two blue ticks indicated the message had been read, there was no reply. He must still be angry with her after she told him she’d be taking the job on Eldey. She could understand he might resent her getting a job so far away from him, but he had been adamant he wanted to live with his father when she and Joe separated. At fifteen, his preferences had carried a lot of weight with the judge. Perhaps she had misread the signals and should have pushed for more access. Still worrying about her son, Mallory jumped at a knock on her door. The woman she had seen earlier in the garden stood at the threshold.
‘I’m Stella Atkinson in room nine. Are you the person to complain to?’
Mallory frowned. ‘I can certainly help with any complaints. What’s the problem?’
‘The coffee this afternoon was disgusting. It wasn’t like this yesterday.’
‘What was the matter with it?’
‘It was very bitter, almost herby. Are you sure you didn’t serve me chicory?’
Mallory bit her lip. Did the woman think they were on rations here? ‘I’m pretty sure we don’t offer chicory on the menu. Did you say anything to your server?’
‘Server? I’m talking about the jug of coffee in reception. I’m not one to be made a fool of, you know.’
Mallory looked closely at the woman. It was an odd choice of words. Her expression was a mix of defiance and unease. Mallory remembered throwing away most of the mug she’d been sipping earlier, its taste over brewed. She also recalled Tom’s comment that Alys lived on coffee during the day and gin at night.
‘It’s not made you ill, has it?’
‘Why do you say that?’
Mallory was shocked at the woman’s aggression. ‘I’m just checking you’re feeling OK.’
‘I have a headache but it’s probably the stress of everything. Nevertheless, I’d like to know exactly what I’ve drunk.’ She left Mallory, who stared after her puzzled.
In the kitchen, Tom was checking his individual rabbit pies. He barely glanced at her through the steam as Mallory hunted around next to the coffee machine.
‘Where’s the jar of coffee we use for the machine?’
‘There.’ Tom pointed at the glass pot.
‘Give it to me.’ Mallory wet her finger and put some of the grains in her mouth. It tasted like ordinary coffee, bitterly pungent. ‘One of the guests has complained about the taste.’
‘Nothing wrong with the beans.’ Tom folded his arms. ‘Perhaps the water is a bit salty, I know we’ve had complaints about it before. People don’t realise it’s not like getting your water from a reservoir. The well we use has freshwater sitting on top of seawater, which does you no harm to you.’
She saw she’d offended him. ‘That’s probably it. I’m going to make a brew out of these grounds myself so I can reassure the guests that all is OK.’
Mallory pulled out a cafetière and poured hot water on the grains. It wasn’t making any sense. Coffee didn’t go off and certainly didn’t cause food poisoning. Mallory poured the brew into a mug and took a gulp. It tasted all right to her.
‘Can you grind a new batch in any case?’ she asked Tom. ‘I’m putting the rest to one side.’ At least she’d have something to hand over to the police, although she was pretty sure the coffee was fine.
Tom nodded, his mind clearly elsewhere. Outside room nine, Mallory rapped on the door. Stella took her time to answer.
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s Mallory, the night manager.’
Mallory heard the chain being removed and the door opened a crack. Stella’s face remained in shadow.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m sorry about the coffee,’ said Mallory. ‘I’ve just had a taste of it and it seems fine but I’ve asked for some new beans to be ground.’
‘You’ve tried it?’ Stella opened the door an inch or two. She’d taken off her glasses and Mallory saw her eyes were rimmed in red.
‘I made myself a drink from the same grains used in the jug on reception. Let me know if there’s a problem this evening.’
‘I think I’ll pass on the coffee full stop,’ said Stella, shutting the door in Mallory’s face.