‘That’s right, Hugh. To never leave.’ She stood up. Pulled him to his feet. ‘Let’s get you back there shall we? Before the tide comes in.’ And putting her arm around his shoulders, drawing him close to her, she took him home.

Chapter 12

Halloween Weekend 2019

Alice

‘Jeez,’ Leon whispers in Alice’s ear, as they step into the entrance of Flynn Hotel, his eyes widening as he looks about him. ‘You’ve brought me to a Tim Burton film set.’

‘Shh.’ She nudges his waist with her elbow, and he groans, and laughs. Seeming oblivious to the tension rising inside her.

The high-ceilinged reception has a curving staircase leading to a second floor. Low-voltage wall lights and an elaborate hanging pendant give everything an amber glow. Alice’s apprehensive gaze roams the room. Black and white photographs cover one wall, mismatched mirrors another, and through ornate double glass doors there’s a bar, luxurious, black satin curtains framing two bay windows. She breathes in the aroma of incense, as her eyes continue to travel, taking in a mahogany colonial grandfather clock with large gold numbers telling her it’s a quarter to seven, a pink sofa, a table graced with black fake flowers in pink vases, and finally her sculpture of Gothic House in the centre of a black chest in the corner.

‘Miss Hadley?’ Christine stands behind a wooden counter, the laptop in front of her seeming at odds with the bizarre surroundings. She’s ditched her anorak and beanie, to reveal black hair cropped into a pixie cut, a calf-length black dress over her full figure, cloaked by a silver-weave cardigan. She peers at Alice over red-framed glasses.

Behind her is a rack of keys, and three A4-sized photographs are displayed on the wall in a pyramid. At the top, a picture labelled Cameron – Owner. It’s the same photograph Alice saw on the website. Beneath his picture is one of a smiling Christine – Hotel Manager. The third is of a young woman with long, straight black hair, and piercing blue eyes set in a pretty, pale face: Gabriela – General Assistant.

Christine turns from Alice as they approach, and glances through the double doors of the bar towards one of the bay windows. Rain lashes against the glass; lanterns strung along the patio rock and sway in the wind. ‘It looks as if you got here just in time. It’s getting quite blustery out there.’ Her eyes return to the laptop screen. Fingers rest on the keyboard; tap, tap, tap. ‘Room 2,’ she says, stopping to grab a key from a rack. ‘It’s up the stairs and to your left. A lovely sea-facing room.’ A smile floods her round face, her cheeks flushed as she places the key in Alice’s hand.

‘Could you tell me Faith Evans’ room number, please?’