I jump up to check.
It’s hard to see with my hand shaking so much. That must be the reason. It’s the wrong result. You can’t be sure from one test anyway. That’s why they gave you two sticks in the box, and I bought two boxes. That makes four tests in total.
The second time I count red bottles. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to matter what I count. All four tests produce the same answer.
The bathroom has gleaming brass taps. I wash my hands then wrap the four indicators in tissue and stuff them in the bin under lots of paper towels. Not that the evidence will stay hidden for long.
Chapter Nine
Alice/Lessa
Brandon is waiting for me at a nice little window table with coffee, milk, and more bad news.
“I can’t reach George Du Montfort. He’s not at home or his office.”
“Well, perhaps he’s gone on holiday.” I lower myself into the seat opposite. At the moment, finding accommodations is the last thing on my mind. Being…being…this situation changes everything. I’ve never needed someone to confide in as I do right now. Clive. I need to talk to Clive.
“He’s on the island.” Brandon checks his phone. “He’ll be at the fair later.”
“What?” For a moment it sounds as if he’s talking about Clive.
Brandon waves his phone at me. “Says so on the web page. George is the Seigneur, so he’ll be opening the festival.”
I don’t give a flying freckle about George Du Whatever and his festival. All the green bottle counting has changed my priorities. I no longer need a place to hide, because…well, because the choice has been taken out of my hands. Clive has to know and then everything will have to be different.
Oh God, his statement to the press will have to be reframed to explain the truth instead of the lie. Sir Alan will know how to negotiate with the press office. Won’t he? I hope so.
Then something Brandon said snags my attention. He’s scrolling on his phone still.
“You have internet?”
“Oh yes, The hotel’s Wi-Fi.”
Thank God. I dig into my bag for the phone. And sure enough, it shows a healthy five bar signal.
“So, we’ll have to find him there. The festival opens in a couple of hours. We may as well stay here and have breakfast.” He waves to a waitress who hurries over with a trolly full of pastries. The smell of pain au chocolat is strong enough to reach me from across the room.
“What can I get for you?” The young woman gives Brandon a stare that even I can’t miss.
“What’s the password for your Wi-Fi?”
She doesn’t respond, or perhaps she hasn’t heard me because all her attention is on Brandon.
“Excuse me.” I do my best not to look and sound as sick as I feel. It’s not the waitress’s fault.
Brandon glances at me, then slides a small card across the table. The password is scrolled on it.
“What do you fancy?” He nods toward the tray in the waitress’s hands.
“Anything. You choose.” I quickly key in the password and wait to connect. Viv gave me her ‘safe’ WhatsApp contact in case of emergency because WhatsApp is end-to-end encrypted and can’t be hacked.
I never imagined I’d have to use it so soon. And what am I going to write?
The curser blinks at me nagging me to decide.
ALICE: I need to speak to him. It’s urgent.
A moment later, I add:
