The dining room was emptying out now, so I began collecting glasses. It was going to be busy today. Fewer people were going to go out because of the weather. I could probably manage until lunch but once the bar needed to be opened up this afternoon, if I still had no extra staff, I didn’t know how I was going to handle it all.
‘Psst. Psst. Beth.’
I looked up from stacking teacups and worrying, to see Noelle beckoning to me from behind her menu, which was standing up in the centre of her table. I straightened and blinked. Making sure the stack of teacups was able to hold its own weight, I abandoned my clear-up attempt and went over to her.
‘Morning. Everything okay?’ I peered warily over the menu and was relieved to see all she had there was a glass of juice, a plate with some pastry crumbs and her notebook.
‘Yeah, I’m great. You gotta minute to sit with me?’
‘Uh, sure.’ I didn’t. Of course I didn’t have a minute but when my prospects for the morning included clearing up the dining room, laundry, helping clean the rooms and dealing with Henry, I figured some time chatting to someone who actually seemed to like me would be worth carving out.
I moved around the table and took the chair next to her so that I was behind her menu partition too.
‘I’ve been doing some sleuthing for you.’ She tapped her notepad and picked up the glittery gel pen beside it. Her handwriting was the large, rounded and neat kind, so I could very easily make out the names of about a dozen guests listed next to two columns, labelled ‘For’ and ‘Against’. ‘I’ve sketched out some rudimentary details that I’ve been able to pick up from conversation, but I need to know the full list of suspects, otherwise there’s no point me narrowing it down any further.’
‘This is about the blogger?’ I cringed again about my slip-up with the tea blends and Stephen virtually yelling ‘cannabis’ to the whole room. ‘You’re trying to figure out who it is?’
She nodded. ‘I couldn’t resist.’ Her hair was in two long plaits today and she flicked one over her shoulder. ‘And now I need you to fill me in on who the rest of the guests are.’ She stretched her neck, checking over the top of the menu, no doubt scoping out the other guests to see if anyone was listening.
I looked down again at her notepad. ‘Why isyourname on the list?’
‘Oh, you know, just in case you thought I was trying to misdirect you. Classic Keyser Söze move.’
I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘So? Why shouldn’t I believe it’s you? Youarea writer.’
‘Precisely. As my editor will tell you, I do not have time for writing a travel blog as well as the novel I’m contracted and probably gonna miss the deadline for.’
I was guessing it’d be rude to point out that she probably didn’t have time to conduct self-funded private-eye investigations either.
‘Plus,’ she added. ‘I don’t have the opportunity. I go away maybe twice a year. Frequent travellers are your most likely suspects.’
‘That makes sense.’
‘Exactly. Like your boy Nick, right?’ She underscored his name a couple of times. ‘He flies to different countries constantly. Must stay overnight in lots of different hotels. He’d have some downtime too. Perfect to fill with writing reviews on a blog.’
All of which was very plausible, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered it, but instead of agreeing I simply blurted out: ‘He’s notmyboy.’
She leaned back in her chair, chewing on the end of her pen as she considered me. A slow grin crept up on her face. ‘It was a figure of speech.’
‘Right, of course it was.’ I cleared my throat and shuffled my chair closer to the table, not meeting her bright grey eyes, which were twinkling with mischief. She moved her chair in a little too and nudged my shoulder gently with hers.
‘It’s cool. If you like him, you can tell me, I’ll keep it a secret,’ she whispered.
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Oh, that is so blatantly not true, but I’ll drop it if you want. I’ve got some intel on them though if you’re interested: the Brothers Cartwright.’ She licked her finger and dabbed it into the pastry crumbs, waggling her eyebrows.
‘What kind of intel?’ I asked before I realised that I was not supposed to be interested.
‘Backstory of the messy, conflicted and heartstring-tugging variety. I was in the pub last night when they were having their dinner.’
IthoughtI’d seen her in there. ‘Noelle, were youspyingon them?’
‘Well, sure.’ She cocked her head to the side innocently as though it was obvious and completely acceptable.
I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my forehead on my hand, shaking my head a little, whilst also fighting back laughter. This woman was too much.
‘So, I’ve got the gist of what’s causing the tension between them. Other than your good self obviously. You wanna hear?’ She popped her finger, matted with choux pastry, into her mouth.
